#I hate android kernels

[fedfer]

Straight up comparing it, and by it... well let's just say... Kernel device trees

[feeling-weirdy]

If you're still taking prompts, could you do something set after the 'what is grief..' scene, where vision starts watching sitcoms with wanda to understand them better, and wanda gets distracted staring at him with *heart eyes* 🥰

Wanda bit her lip, desperate to keep herself quiet, forcing her fixation on the television ahead of her.  Over the course of her life, she couldn’t help but feel a strong connection to Samantha.  Wanda had been desperate to fit in, especially with this new group of friends, but found herself unable to push herself forward.  With the death of her brother, she could feel herself closing up, not entirely interested in making small talk with the ones that had pushed her to live here, despite her insistence against it.  

She didn’t want to be here with these people.  They were strangers, this building and city were so foreign to her.  She hated it.

As if to make matters worse, once she moved in, she realized that the other members of their "team" had begun avoiding her.  "Giving her space" is what Natasha had called it, but what she meant was clear as day.  Vision, however, seemed determined to insert himself in her television “me time”.  Constantly finding a million and one reasons why he should spend time with her.  He didn’t talk much, which was a plus, he was just...there.  Whether he was simply enjoying the show as it played or he was waiting for her to start talking to him about her feelings or whatever...she never could quite figure it out.

He wasn’t exactly easy to read, but if she was being honest, she didn’t mind the company.

The awkwardness was a well-known friend at this point, a third-wheel that had made itself comfortable between the two as they looked ahead.  Careful not to overstep the silent boundaries they had placed between them.

Wanda failed, however, her curiosity getting the better of her as she peeked at the android sitting beside her.  He had certainly made himself comfortable and while she didn’t mind...it was hard to decide whether or not he was actually enjoying spending time with her; it almost felt like...babysitting.

Vision remained focused, his eyes never wavering from the T.V. as he processed the information that was presented to him on screen.  His quiet, solid, emotionless expression gave away just how robotic he actually was as he watched. Vision studied the movements of both Samantha and Darrin, his pupils flicking back and forth across the screen, moving along with the pixels as they crossed the room.

“You can relax, you know?  It’s not like I’m gonna quiz on this later,” Wanda chuckled, trying to take her own advice.  

“I just find these shows, in particular, extraordinarily interesting.  They seem to bring you so much comfort.  I appreciate that a great deal,” Vision responded, finally breaking his eyes away to meet hers.

“That’s what they’re created for, I think.  They’re just supposed to be fun.”  Wanda leaned back, kicking her left leg out as she turned to face him on the couch.  She wasn’t very good at this small talk thing, but since he was taking time out of his day to spend time with her, the least she could do was try to understand his perspective.  Wanda’s head fell to the side, her curiosity growing.  “So, is that the only reason you like them?  Because they bring me comfort?  I figured you actually enjoyed them."

“Not necessarily.  I do find them quite funny as well.  The fact that humans can subjugate themselves to all sorts of hilarious stunts and seemingly come out unscathed...it’s admirable.”  Vision paused for a moment, nodding at his assessment.  “There are other reasons as well, but if it brings humans joy to immerse themselves in such frivolous entertainment than I see no greater purpose.”

Wanda chuckled.  “Admirable?  I think you’re looking too deeply into it.”

“Am I?”  Vision nodded his head back towards the television.  “Look at this woman...Samantha, was it?”  Wanda nodded, a smile crawling along her face as she watched him.  “Despite her power and capabilities to place herself above the humans, she chooses to settle down with one.  Live her life among them, placing restraints on herself so that she can find a way to put herself on the same level.  Grant herself the ability to live a normal life, regardless of what stands against her.  The concept is fascinating.”

“Kind of like you, hm?”  Wanda laughed to herself, fixated on the way he spoke about one of her all-time favorites.  His soft, almost melodic voice, pulled her into some sort of a trance.  She found herself staring, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips as she leaned against the back of the couch.  Her words seemed to resonate something within him as his expression became confused.

“I would hardly compare the two.”  

“Maybe you should.”  Vision’s eyes bore into hers, searching for meaning.  She felt almost imprisoned beneath them, unable to look away.  She had never realized how blue his eyes were.  They had spent a good deal of time together, but she had never noticed.  A small white band wrapped around his iris, gently turning as his eyes scanned hers.  She assumed not in the same admiring way that she had been giving him.  

Her eyes trailed along his face, looking carefully at the small indentions that adorned his skin.  The hard, maroon plates that covered his cheeks shifted subtly beneath his every movement.

Without meaning, Wanda reached her hand toward him.  His mouth opened, most likely to prod her further, but was interrupted by the loud gurgles that came from Wanda’s stomach.

Heat rose to Wanda’s cheeks, her eyes widening as she finally broke free from his gaze.  

Vision smirks, chuckling softly as he pushed himself up to his feet.  “Perhaps I should make you some popcorn.  I’ve been told that it is the perfect television snack.”  

“Yeah, sure.  That sounds great.”  Her voice trembled, nerves getting the better of her as she watched him walk off into the kitchen and grab one of the many bags they had tucked away in the cupboard for movie nights.  

Wanda closed her eyes, gripping at her hand in a desperate attempt to regain control of her body.  What the hell was she about to do?  She forced deep staggered breaths, focusing on the way her body moved.  

She could hear the small movements in the kitchen.  The wrapper around the bag being ripped off, the microwave opening, the small beeps as Vision pressed the buttons, the hum of the microwave as it began its process.  The distraction was welcome, but it didn’t shed her of the embarrassment that overtook her.

Here he was just trying to sit beside her and make her feel better and she was ogling over his very obviously nonhuman form.  

Popping began to fill the room as Wanda slowly opened her eyes.  She couldn’t let herself start that again.  He was beautiful, sure, but she would not allow herself to get close to him like that ever again.  She just couldn’t.  

Never again.

She took one last deep breath, peeking over into the kitchen as the sweet smell of delicious, buttery popcorn quickly turned into the coppery smell of burnt popcorn.  

“You doing okay in there?”  Wanda chuckled, leaning forward a bit to figure out what exactly happened.  She watched as Vision poured the black kernels into a bowl, looking at them dumbfoundedly.

“My apologies.  I’m not quite sure I...”  Picking up one of the black, puffy creations, he eyed it curiously.  “I believe something is wrong.”

“Smells burnt to me.”

He shook his head in disbelief.  “I followed the directions exactly.”   Vision grabbed the bag, scanning the instructions once more.

“Yeah...those things can’t be trusted.”  Wanda laughed, standing up from the couch and making her way after him in the kitchen.  “Maybe I’ll just make a sandwich instead.”

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

[wolveria]

Mechanical Heart - Ch. 2

Pairing: RK800-60 x f!Reader

Summary: RK800 Model 313 248 317 - 60 had the perfect bait to lure in his defective predecessor. He'd run the scenario thousands of times, preconstructed his strategy in every conceivable way, and he simply could not fail.

The one scenario 60 didn't anticipate was his sudden instability from the presence of the human, and the desire objective to take from Connor what should have been his.

Prompt: Toxic by 2WEI (for my writing challenge at @trashmenofmarvel​)

Chapter Warnings: Noncon, victim-blaming (internal and external), violence, psychological abuse

Word Count: 6.2k

AO3

Although it seemed to go on forever, the tense, silent elevator ride eventually came to an end.

The room beyond the opened doors was not what you expected. It was some kind of lounge, clearly reserved for CyberLife’s most prestigious guests. Warm lighting cast from expensive floor and desk lamps, dark wood parquet flooring and maroon carpet runners, complete with brown leather sofas and a large holoscreen on the wall above a lit fireplace.

Your android captor grabbed your arm before you had a chance to move on your own, propelling you toward the largest couch facing the fireplace. He shoved you down, your shaky knees folding like poorly-stacked cards as you collapsed onto the cushions.

Sixty turned away without a second glance and approached a liquor cart stationed against the wall, bourbon and scotch bottles glinting in the flickering firelight.

“Thirsty?” His tone was amused as he looked over his shoulder, fixing you with eyes that were identical to Connor’s, and yet so unalike.

Dark amber, you thought. That’s what color they were. Rich, deep, and filled with hidden malice.

When you realized he was actually expecting a response, you numbly shook your head, shoulders hunched to ward off the chill of his gaze.

Turning back to the cart, he uncapped a tall bottle and poured two fingers worth of golden liquid into the glass, evidently ignoring your refusal. You certainly didn’t think he was pouring one out for himself.

When he crossed the distance and held out the drink, you stared at the proffered glass like it was filled with poison. His arm snaked out with surprising speed, snatching up your hand and forcing your grip around the expensive crystal.

He help your fingers and your gaze for a disconcerting moment, one that made sweat break out along your hairline, but he finally released you unharmed. You pulled your hand to your chest, hating every second your skin was in contact with his.

“Drink,” he growled. It was not a suggestion.

You brought the glass to your lips, trying your best to stop the shake in your fingers. You couldn’t help but linger on how warm his hand had been, or how long and slim his fingers were. Hands identical to those you had longed to hold and should have been safe for you to touch.

That last thought prompted you to down the drink in one swallow, the liquid burning sheer fire as it traveled down your throat, making your eyes water. Hell, maybe the drink had been a good idea. The heat spreading throughout your gut loosened some of the coiled tension in your muscles, and suddenly you didn’t care as much about the fact a giant, evil, megacorporation had abducted you in the dead of night during an android revolution.

The Connor-who-was-not-your-Connor took the empty glass from your grip, but instead of leaving, he used his other hand to place his fingers under your chin. Your reaction was delayed, befuddled by the strong drink, and when he tilted your face upwards, you simply allowed it.

His head was tilted at a curious angle, dark eyes roaming over your features as if there was some puzzle there he could solve if he studied it long enough. His brows creased briefly and he let his hand drop.

You didn’t know if he had found what he was looking for, but the perturbed expression remained on his face as he angled it toward the TV. His LED spun yellow, the first time you had seen it change color all night, and the holoscreen clicked on, drawing your attention away from your jailer.

“We're coming to you live from Detroit where thousands of androids are marching through the city at this very moment.”

The voice was coming from a newscaster, shouting to be heard over the downdraft of helicopter blades. “The leader of the deviants, the one they call Markus, is at the head of the march.”

“Looks like we have some time.”

You jerked as the couch cushions dipped at your side. Your attention had been so focused on the screen that you’d lost track of the android’s movements. Now he was occupying the seat next to you, his thigh carelessly pressed against yours. In opposite to your tense, hunched manner, he took up as much space as possible; knees spread, one hand draped over his leg while the other leaned on the back of the couch directly behind your head.

Despite his invasion of your personal space and his overwhelming presence, he wasn’t looking at you. Seemed to ignore you completely. With a wary heart, you turned back toward the broadcast, keeping him in the peripherals of your vision.

The androids marched forward through the snow-covered streets, calm and with unending courage even as a SWAT team fired on them. Each volley made you flinch, heart racing as if you yourself were under attack.

Was Connor there? You didn’t even know if he’d escaped the raid on Jericho, if Sixty had been telling the truth about any of it. You hadn’t confirmed it for yourself, though you’d been glued to the newscast an hour ago, searching for signs of Connor from the shaky helicopter footage.

That’s when he had stepped into your life, casting a dark shadow on your doorstep like an ill omen, taking advantage of your desperate hope to see Connor and preying on your vulnerable emotional state.

Connor had told you he’d been programmed with the ability to manipulate humans and androids in order to achieve his goal. You hadn’t really believed he was capable of something like that, his actions always so earnest and sweet.

Now, it was like all the dark parts of Connor he hadn’t wanted you to see were being peeled away and revealed before your eyes. It made you appreciate your friend all the more, for choosing to be the good person he was instead of the machine beside you, and you ached to be with him now more than ever.

“Looks like the deviants are waiting on their last miracle,” Sixty said, a mockery of sympathy in his words as he watched the android protestors sit on the ground, helpless before the armed humans. “Connor better get here soon or there won’t be anyone left to fight his revolution.”

Your hands curled into fists in your lap as you turned your face away.

“Turn it off.”

You spoke so quietly you weren’t sure he heard—but no, of course he did. He was just pretending not to.

“Please,” you tried again, a hint of your anguish slipping past your defenses.

“Don’t you want to see what your actions have wrought?” he chided, dropping his voice to a low, menacing register.

The cushion dipped and you knew he was leaning closer, but you didn’t look, couldn’t meet his eye. He was a liar, a deceiver, and he probably planned to kill Connor, but… his words still pried at cracks in your armor that were there long before he’d met you.

“You helped bring this about, after all. Instead of turning over the deviants to the proper authorities, you protected them. Sheltered them. You nurtured their delusions.”

His voice was honey smooth, reaching deeper within you the longer he spoke, tendrils of manipulation that seeped into the cracks. “They’re broken machines. They needed to be fixed, not entertained with false hope and dreams never meant for them. What you mistook for kindness was, in fact, very cruel.”

Your shoulders curled tighter, wincing as if his words physically hurt you. He was near enough that you could feel the puff of his breath and the warmth that radiated off his synthetic skin, and you flinched when the weight of his hand curled around the back of your neck.

“But what you did to Connor was by far the cruelest.” There was a sharp smile in his velvety words. “You made him believe he was human.”

The guilt vanished, evaporated as a kernel of white-hot anger took its place. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps you could have done something more to help the deviants. But never, not once, had you ever hurt Connor. You had watched him slowly awaken, start to question his actions and purpose, and you would never regret putting him on the path he had desperately been searching for.

“I know about Amanda.”

The warm breath across your cheek vanished, the hand on the back of your nape rigid like stone as the android it belonged to went completely still.

For the first time that evening, you felt a modicum of control.

“Connor told me everything,” you said, slowly turning your head to meet his eye. “He told me about the Zen Garden, about his orders and what they meant. He knew his alliance with the DPD was a means to an end. He was scared of what CyberLife would make him do, to me and to Lieutenant Anderson, if we got in the way of Connor’s mission.”

The android hadn’t moved, his chest frozen as he neglected to breathe. His expression was focused, brows drawn into an aggressive angle, but the most curious thing was his frantically spinning yellow LED.

“I know what they’ll do if you fail.” You turned your body further towards him, never breaking eye contact or even blinking. “You’ll be killed and taken apart, your core code ripped to shreds and reassembled. Prototypes don’t get a second chance, do they? That’s why there were so many RK800’s before you.”

You let your voice soften, desperate to get through to him anyway you could. If he really was a Connor model, with all the same quirks and ticks that Connor had, maybe there was a chance he could still be reached.

If he had all of Connor’s memories, how much of a difference could there be between them?

“It’s not your fault,” you said, gentle in the way you used with Connor when he experienced self-doubt. “Your choices were taken away from you, even before you came online. If anyone’s cruel, it’s that AI program that looks like a woman. The manipulation, the lies, all the ways she tried to break Connor? I’m sure she’s done the same exact thing to—”

Cold metal pressed against the underside of your chin, stopping your words like a slap to the face. You hadn’t even realized he’d moved, didn’t know he had a gun, but the barrel jabbed into your flesh, all the same.

Dark amber blazed with a fury you’d never seen from Connor, his lips curled into a snarl as his LED spun a furious red.

You didn’t dare move, heart hammering in your chest as you wondered which beat would be your last. The muzzle slightly trembled, pressing harder against your jaw. Faced with your own death, you felt strangely numb. How had this happened so fast? He wasn’t supposed to kill you, was he?

Maybe it was better this way. At least he couldn’t use you to hurt Connor. The androids would win their freedom with his help, and was a noble sacrifice worthy of your life.

You just regretted never telling Connor that… that you…

The pressure suddenly lessened. Sixty’s LED slowed to a blinking yellow, followed by a calm blue. The muzzle was still against your skin, but much lighter, almost gentle.

You nearly relaxed until you felt the pressure point of metal begin to trail down your neck; your back stiffened, ramrod straight as the shock wore off and cold fear tricked down the base of your spine.

Sixty wasn’t grimacing anymore. His lips curled into a small smirk, eyes hard and narrowed but solely focused on your face as the muzzle trail down your collar bone, down your chest, and stopping at your abdomen. The hem of your shirt snagged on the barrel, and he lifted it enough to press the cold metal directly against your stomach.

You sucked in a breath, trying to retreat from the unfriendly chill of the gun, but the hand at back of your neck tugged hard and pulled you forward. Shoved you, really, against his shoulder as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear.

The gun was pressed so hard against your gut that it hurt, but you didn’t dare move.

“Don’t mistake me for that fucking deviant,” he snarled in warning. “You made him weak. Vulnerable. He cares for you. That’s what’s going to get him killed.”

You grabbed for the gun.

In hindsight, it was probably the stupidest thing you could have done, but he was threatening Connor. This bastard was going to hurt him, kill him, and you didn’t think, all you could do was everything in your power to stop it, so you grabbed the gun and twisted it and—

Light flashed, brightening the space between you as the boom deafened. A high-pitched whine immediately followed, filling your head with angry ringing. You blinked rapidly, eyes watering from the acrid smell of spent gunpowder forced into your nose, your sinuses stinging sharply.

You waited for the pain and agony, but there was none. You looked down, expecting to see dripping blue blood or gushing red. Instead, a smoking hole punctured the leather five inches to your left.

“Useless fucking human—“

A hand wrapped around base of your throat, Sixty’s LED flashing deadly red as he shoved you back onto the cushions in one swift, brutal movement.

The android was heavier than he looked, smothering as he held you down, leaving no room for escape. The gun fell from his grasp, forgotten as his fingers dug into the tie around his neck, loosening the knot before ripping it free.

“Are you trying to kill yourself? Is that it?”

Sixty shoved you onto your side, roughly pulling your arms behind your back, forcing a pained whimper as your shoulder blades ached in protest. “I’m not failing my mission because you’re too stupid to stay alive!”

“No!” you cried out, heart racing like a caged bird as the soft material was bound tight around your wrists. He was using his tie as an impromptu restraint, and something about that fact filled you with blinding terror.

“I didn’t, I’m not trying to—“

Sixty yanked you onto your back, pulled up your shirt, bunched it into his fist, and shoved it in your mouth.

You screamed through the material, tried to spit it out to no effect, but you quickly stilled your struggles when you realized each movement was pulling up your shirt more and more. His actions had also laid bare your skin, your stomach was exposed and you weren’t wearing a bra.

Your chest was still covered. Barely.

It was this expanse of skin that drew Sixty’s hard eyes, head slightly tilted as his LED spun curiously from blue to yellow and back again.

Against your will, your chest was forced into an arch from your hands bound at the small of your back, an uncomfortable, exposing position. It didn’t help that your heart was still racing and your system was flooded with adrenaline from your near brush with death.

You flinched as a warm hand trailed upwards, fingers ghosting over your stomach, slipping under the taut folds of your shirt to cup one breast. A thumb rubbed across your nipple, already pert.

No no no no no.

You shut your eyes tight, refusing to acknowledge what was happening. It couldn’t be. This was insane. He was an android. Why would he—

Sixty continued to rub at the nipple and it was only getting harder, the ache caused by his slender fingers going straight to your core.

This was a nightmare. It had to be. It’s not him. It’s not Connor.

Your Connor, with his beautiful brown eyes and soft, gentle face.

Your Connor, who would never do something like this to you, or to anyone.

Your Connor, who had become more and more alive with each passing day, well on his way to breaking free of his programming.

Unlike him. He was a machine. He didn’t feel anything, or he shouldn’t, except he seemed to be experiencing plenty of loathing and contempt and hatred for you.

Sixty pulled down your pajama pants, deft fingers sliding into your underwear, and you tried to be an unfeeling machine yourself. Let your head float into space, anything to block out the cruelty that felt too similar to your harmless fantasies about Connor.

The fact that Connor’s touch would have felt just like this made your chest tighten and your eyes sting. The brutal android was taking your innocent attraction and twisting it into a terrifying nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

As much as you tried to dissociate from what was happening, you were thrown back into your body, grounded in merciless reality when he slipped two fingers deep into your folds. They were slick with your arousal. Practically dripping for—no, not for him, never for him!

“Is this all for me?” he purred, smugness dripping from his words. When you didn’t respond, he gripped you jaw and forced your head forward, your eyes snapping open in surprise from his sudden aggression. His dark eyes blazed to match his shift in mood, lips curling unpleasantly.

“Or are you thinking of someone else?”

You said nothing. His nose wrinkled, something you’d never seen in an android do before. A silent, wolfish snarl.

Without warning or care, he thrust forward, prodding you open and forcing his fingers inside. You shouted into the cloth between your teeth, arching your back as you tried to escape the flare of humiliating pain.

Sixty slowly withdrew his fingers only to insert them again, less brutal but still firm, and you released a small, muffled sob.

“He likes you, you know,” he murmured against your ear. “Far more than he should. He knows it’s a mistake, that deep down he’s defective. He had a mission, and you were supposed to be a means to an end.”

He forced his fingers into you again, and again, each time feeling like a punishment or a judgement. Even his words were accusatory as he spoke them over your frantic gasps for air.

“Amanda planned for him to go deviant eventually, but it wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly. Software glitches turned into errors, cascaded into system failures. And it all started because you invited Connor over for tea.”

He sneered the last word with full contempt, but his words didn’t match his actions. The android stopped the cruel rhythm, replacing it with a more precise pace, curling his fingers in a new way that left you strangely breathless and shuddering.

“You could have ruined everything. And now… I have to salvage the mission.”

With the next careful thrust, you gave a strained groan that was not from pain. The burning sensation was transforming into a slow, languid heat. Your breath hitched as you began to tighten around his fingers involuntarily.

No no no no. You tried to squeeze your legs but they were held open by Sixty’s hips planted firmly between your thighs, his hand practically crushed between your bodies. His free hand pulled your shirt up the rest of the way, exposing you to the cold air, nipples painfully hard.

You gave a muffled whine, shocking yourself because even you didn’t know if it was from protest or need, but he didn’t touch you. Instead, Sixty’s hand snaked around your neck, pressing his fingers to each side of your throat. You could feel your own heartbeat under his fingertips. It made your head spin.

“She had to wake me too soon. I was ordered to upload Connor’s memories with each report. Forced to watch his tedious, inane interactions with the lieutenant. Forced to witness him act like a pathetic dog, wagging his tail every time he saw you. The human with the stray deviants. The human who didn’t treat him like a machine. The stupid little human and her stupid delusions.”

Tears fully clouded your vision and you turned your head away, but he immediately gripped your jaw and pulled you right back. He was speaking to you, plunging his fingers all the way to his knuckles, but his contemptuous words made you feel as if you were nothing. Just a doll to be played with, not a living being who suffered. You wondered if this was how the sex androids felt when they were used by those who rented them.

Despite the fact he didn’t acknowledge your humanity, he still seemed to want an audience. His dark eyes never left yours, his brows furrowed forcefully as his LED continued to spin yellow. That it was Connor’s face hovering over you instead of a stranger’s made it so much worse, so much more confusing as your mental terror warred with your responding body.

You had bitten into the fabric between your teeth to keep from making anymore humiliating sounds, but it wasn’t as effective as you’d hoped. Little gasps and whimpers still escaped, pulled out of you as he continued to methodically fuck you on his fingers.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch your predecessor fail so completely?” he growled low and hateful, curling his fingers tighter, forcing your hips to buck as he reached a spot within you that made your toes curl. It was humiliating, pushing desperately against his hand like an animal, but you couldn’t stop.

Your thighs trembled, your chest pushing up against his, your nipples rubbing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt and building the pressure even higher. You choked back another sob, still trying to fight yourself but unable to stifle the noises as your walls squeezed around his fingers, eyes watering as the coil in your gut twisted tighter and tighter.

“All he had to do was follow simple instructions, and instead, he was distracted by a mere human. Do you know what I experienced, so sharply I could almost taste it?”

His lips tickled your ear, his velvet voice reaching down into your core.

“Disappointment.”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbed twice, and the pressure in your gut snapped.

Your teeth clamped down on a muffled scream as your walls throbbed around him, your hips bucking as your back arched. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, a silent denial even as your body betrayed you, craving in that brief moment of weakness for his fingers to reach deeper, to pull you apart if it meant there was unending pleasure and nothing else.

Too quickly the orgasm receded, leaving your body pleasantly thrumming but your mind a devastation. You were aware enough to realize his fingers were no longer inside you, his weight still holding you down but tempered as he leaned on his elbows.

Sixty was… peering down at you, his head at a curious angle again. He dipped his face toward you and you quickly turned away, whimpering as you squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t know what he was going to do but you half-expected to feel him bite into your flesh. Finish what he’d started by ripping you apart with his teeth.

Instead, you felt something warm and wet slide up the side of your cheek as he… licked you? No, not just you. His tongue trailed up the path that had been left behind by your tears.

Connor had told you once it was a way to gather clues, a literal crime lab on his tongue, meant to sample evidence on-the-go and give a detailed report of chemical components.

You’d thought it was funny at the time, the idea of Connor licking up crime scene evidence. Being on the other end of it, of having this android disassemble you even further, felt nothing short of violating.

What would Sixty taste in your tears? The pain and anguish he was causing? Or was he incapable of sensing anything beyond salt and water?

Slowly turning your head, you looked up at him warily out of the corner of your eye. His LED was spinning yellow, flickering in a way you knew meant he was processing information. The blinking stopped but remained the same warning color, his brows furrowing as he regarded you like a vicious child might watch a fly whose wings he was about to remove.

Startlingly fast, he ripped the shirt from your mouth. The obstacle removed, you took a breath to scream, but the harsh lips against yours swallowed the sound.

Too scared to move, to think, even to breathe, you remained frozen for a handful of seconds. Then you jerked your head to the side, forcing his lips away with a cry of revulsion.

Sixty gripped your jaw tight in his hand, forcing your head back into the position he wanted. He squeezed, the pain forcing your jaw open, and his tongue darted inside.

It was like a live wire had been touched directly to your spine, sparking through your nerves and leaving you strangely weak. Taking advantage of your lack of resistance, Sixty licked into your mouth, tasting and prodding and exploring. Initially, his lips had been hard and demanding, but the longer he kissed you the more pliant and warm they became.

No, the familiar denial rang out in your head as your body started to respond in tandem with the attention of his lips. No, no, I can’t—not again.

Your heart thudded in your chest, panic squeezing your lungs like a vice. It was your own fault; you had imagined this very scenario, feeling Connor’s exploratory tongue in your mouth as he weighed you down.

The unfairness of everything, but especially how he was using Connor against you, hit you like a truck, and you once again found the strength to jerk your head away.

Sixty didn’t let that sit; he forced your head forward, a frustrated growl in his throat, but he didn’t kiss you again. His expression was odd, intensely focused as he looked between your eyes, and then he blinked as his yellow LED flickered. How long since it had been blue?

It didn’t matter, what did any of it matter—

You jerked your hips involuntarily as he dragged two fingers, precise and methodical, up between your folds. The pads rubbed across your clit, shamefully engorged again, an involuntary effect of his thorough kissing.

Self-loathing and sick shame burned your cheeks, but you couldn’t look away from the monster who wore Connor’s face. His pupils were so dilated the entire iris appeared black. He pulled his hand out of your underwear, held the two fingers in front of his mouth, and with an indecent delicateness… licked them.

You nearly groaned at the sight (not Connor, he’s not Connor!) but managed to swallow it down.

“He never tasted you.” Sixty’s voice was faint, almost distant, as if he wasn’t really talking to you at all. “He never got to see you like this. These aren’t his memories. They’re mine.”

Gone was the sly cruelty in his voice, replaced with a low, hungry timbre. It immediately set off warning bells in your head, the bells rising into wailing klaxons when he grabbed your underwear and pajama pants and yanked them down your legs in one smooth motion.

You tried to buck him off, dislodge him with your hips or kick him with your knees, but your muscles froze and your protests were silenced, this time by his mouth rather than a bunched-up shirt.

Sixty hiked up your bare leg, forcing it around his narrow waist as his other hand wrapped fingers into your hair, effectively holding you hostage against his onslaught. His tongue and lips left you dizzy, the fear rising in your throat doing nothing to quench the electric jolt in your gut as you heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down its treads.

On pure animal instincts, you bit down hard.

He jerked away, inhaling sharply as his eyes widened in surprise. Thirium beaded on his bottom lip from the damage you’d caused, but he only swiped at it with his tongue, staining the synthetic flesh blue. His mouth pulled into the sneering grin you were coming to loathe.

“So, you do have a backbone. Good to know.”

Merciless fingers dug into your thigh as he spread you wider, his other hand disappearing from view as you heard the rustle of fabric. You did everything you could to push him off, but you were mere flesh and bone while he was plastic and steel.

Something warm and hard prodded your entrance.

“No—“ you cried in a strangled whimper, but he only shushed you, his hand moving up your thigh to cradle your head in a sick parody of a lover’s caress.

“I don’t want to hurt you more than necessary,” Sixty said, his voice gentle. So much worse than if he’d been nasty. “So stop making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

He angled his hips forward, pushing past your tight entrance with only some discomfort despite the unexpected girth of him. Your body was already betraying you again, walls clinging to him as he slid deeper inside. The intrusion was too much, overwhelming, piercing your mind with agony while your body enveloped him like a traitor.

When he was fully sheathed inside, you let out the chocked sob you’d been holding back. There was nothing left to fight for. He’d won, and you were just his plaything to do with as he pleased.

Instead of moving, he remained still for several long seconds, his breath burning against your neck before leaning forward and giving a tentative lick against your skin.

Instinctively, you arched your back in hopes of pushing him away, but it only served to expose more of your throat to him, and Sixty took advantage, dragging his teeth across your skin. Alternating licking and kissing, overwhelming and leaving you a confusing mixture of hot and cold.

You squeezed your eyes tight, refusing to acknowledge the goosebumps across your skin, or the way you pulsed around his cock. You refused to give him the satisfaction.

“This feels good,” he said, strained through gritted teeth that scraped against your throat. “I know it does. I can sense the quickening of your heart rate, the increased pacing of your lungs to compensate your rising CO2 levels. The perspiration on your skin, the opening of capillaries in the bundle of nerves of your clitoris and the swelling of your vaginal walls.”

He teased and tasted your skin as he spoke, tone lightly mocking but oddly unsteady, as if he had to work to speak. His breaths became more staggered as he began to move, tentatively pulling out by inches and pushing back in, making you shudder with each roll of his hips.

“Your body can’t lie.” His lips crested over the edge of your jaw to the corner of your mouth. “Not to me.”

He kissed you hard before you could respond, his lips capturing like an enemy force, his tongue intruding where it wasn’t welcome.

You tried to fight him, to keep your mouth firmly shut, but as soon as you relaxed the smallest amount, he simply forced your lips apart again. It was like a game to him, seeing how many times and in how many ways he could make you surrender, forcing you to let slip a noise or shiver involuntarily.

You were weary of fighting, tired of continuously losing the battle, and you let your jaw go lax. He seized the moment, surging forward and licking into your mouth as he sucked on your bottom lip. He pulled your leg higher, around where his ribcage would be as he fucked down into you, his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy, filthy and leaving you in ruins.

Something within you was breaking. Forcing you open in too many ways, kissing you in a mockery of loving passion, all of it was too much, too much!

His fingers continued to trail along your skin, painting it with his insidious touch as they roamed over your stomach, your chest, even curling into your hair, and you cracked just a little bit more.

His hips rolled hard, slapping into you with each hit, the rhythmic pace leaving you without breath or thought. His mouth separated from yours and trailed down your throat to your chest, his back curling as he took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck, never losing his pace. And you let him, your spine arching as your eyes rolled into your head, sharp moans ripped from your throat because you were too weak to stop them.

You were on the edge about to fall, fighting against the impossible tide, and some small part of you refused to cede this last sliver of yourself.

Sixty must have sensed it, because he expertly rolled his tongue around your nipple, squeezing and rubbing the other between his deft fingers as he shortened his thrusts and ground against your clit.

“Nnnph!—“ You tried to tell him no, tell him to stop, you couldn’t do this.

He let go of your nipple with a pop, never slowing his rhythm as he grabbed you by the hair, digging his fingers for purchase as he forced you to look at him.

His expression was scorching with intensity, his pupils blown wide and his lips parted to draw breath. Each breath of warm hair he exhaled ghosted across your face, his lips almost touching yours.

His upper lip slightly pulled back into a wolfish snarl, but his voice was low and jagged as he commanded:

“Come for me.”

With a dejected wail you let go, allowing the tide to carry you into a blissful, white silence.

The height of it didn’t last long enough, and you came crashing down to find your body wrapped around him as tight as possible. Your leg around him squeezed, heel digging into his back as pulse after pulse swept through your abdomen, leaving you boneless and tingling as he continued to fuck you, not allowing you to fully come down from your orgasm.

Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes as you continued to chase the euphoria, forgetting it was him causing it, just wanting the bliss to never end. But it did, fading away as he stilled his hips, an odd tremor rippling through the limbs curled around you.

There was something else, too. A second throbbing, deep inside you, accompanied by a feeling of warm liquid leaking out of you and down your ass. You took a trembling breath, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of your thoughts, and realized Sixty was lying completely still, face buried into the side of your neck.

Bile rose in your throat when you realized what had happened.

“Get off!” you choked out, disgusted. Humiliated. Horrified.

You felt more than heard his breathing shut off, and Sixty pulled himself up on his elbows to stare down at you. You refused to meet his eye, but you could see the LED spin red out of the corner of your vision.

You tensed, waiting for the blow, though really, what more could he do to you?

The android didn’t strike you, his LED shifting to a spinning yellow as he moved off of you, leaving you feeling sullied and hollow when he pulled out.

Immediately rolling onto your side, you tried to curl into a ball, hands still wrapped tightly behind your back. You heard the rustle of fabric, of clothes being rearranged and smoothed, and then you felt warm fingers remove the tie from around your wrists.

You yanked your shirt down over your chest and pulled on your pajama pants, a wave of revulsion leaving you dizzy as you felt the cooling, artificial semen leaking into your underwear.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” he said, tone flat and unaffected as if he was already bored. “Get cleaned up. Take no more than five minutes.”

You couldn’t move off the couch fast enough, your sore muscles and aching bones making the process painfully slow. You staggered to the bathroom per his instructions, hugging yourself tightly as you kept your bleary eyes focused on the doorway a few feet ahead.

Somehow, you made it without falling. As soon as you shut the door, you engaged the lock and allowed the strength to leave your legs as you slid down the wall and sank to the floor.

You gave yourself a full minute to simply unravel. Hyperventilation tightened your chest and burned your lungs, shaky fingers digging into your hair as you tried not to vomit. Even now you could feel the ghost of his touch, burning hand-sized impressions into the thigh that had been slung around his waist. The sensation of his artificial seed dripping out of you spurred you to action.

Using the wall as a support, you pushed yourself unsteadily to your feet and stripped off your pants. With a numbness that wasn’t totally unwelcome, you washed your underwear in the sink and viciously scrubbed soap and water between your legs.

You didn’t stop scrubbing until there was no trace of him left, but you knew it was pointless. The mark he’d left behind was unseen, and stained deeper than your skin.

Next Chapter

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Close Call

@spookyscarydarky​ remember like eight years ago when I posted a paragraph from a WIP and told you I was writing about Yan and Chrome finally? And how you probably thought it was a fun happy fic about them hanging out together? Well...sorry in advance ;w;

Heed the warnings, my friends. I’m honestly a little surprised at how abhorrent I was able to make some of this.

Summary: Yandere dragged Chrome to the club expecting a fun night out, but it ends in almost the worst way imaginable.

Warnings: Sexual assault, threat of rape/non-con, blood, violence, death of an oc

Chrome hates places like this.

Nightclubs are always filled with the absolute worst mankind has to offer, and this club is no exception. Chrome is surrounded by loud, sweaty humans, forced to watch them interact. His heightened senses pick up everything; the too-loud music, the shrieking giggles of female humans, the boisterous shouts of male humans, the smell of sweat and alcohol heavy in the air, the flashing lights. At the bar sit humans getting way too drunk and spilling beer all over the floor, out on the dance floor are humans flailing around with reckless abandon and shamelessly grinding on each other, not caring who sees. And when their lust gets to be too much, they drag each other off to the bathroom. Chrome has no doubt about what goes on in there, given that he’s been propositioned by several people himself so far. As if Chrome would ever want to get that close to a disgusting, stupid human. As if Chrome wouldn’t rather be back at Ego, Inc. instead of here. He hates people, doesn’t want to dance, and, because he’s an android, can’t even get drunk to attempt enjoying himself. Normally the bartender is a respite in these places: The one person who has to stay sober and level-headed to keep the place from burning down. But Chrome doesn’t even have that tonight. The bartender, despite being rather handsome by human standards, is as bad as every other human in here. He serves people past their limits and leers at attractive patrons while Chrome looks on in disgust. Why the hell is Chrome even here again?

“Aka-kun! Hey!”

Oh, right.

Chrome doesn’t go out with Yandereplier that often, for all the reasons previously stated. Occasionally, though, Yandere will beg for his company, complaining that it’s not as fun to go alone. Chrome can’t see how Yandere gets any enjoyment out of it at all, truthfully, but he finds him hard to say no to. Besides, Yandere’s prone to getting into trouble in places like this, and there’s no such thing as having too much backup. Especially now, when he’s more than a little drunk and stumbling over with yet another cocktail. Chrome wonders if a decent bartender would still be serving him at all.

“Yandere, haven’t you had enough?” Chrome asks him. He has to talk louder than normal over the music.

“Aww, don’t be a party pooper!” Yandere giggles, taking a long sip of his drink. He shivers but grins as the alcohol burn travels down his throat and into his chest. “It’s a strawberry daiquiri, but I told the bartender to use vodka instead of rum. Or maybe it was both? Anyway, it’s soooo good, Aka-kun! Try it!” He thrusts the drink forward, spilling a little. Chrome leans away, disgust clear on his face.

“No.”

“C’mon Aka-kun, it’s not like you’ll get drunk!”

“I’d almost prefer it if I could.” Chrome sighs. “Maybe then I might be able to tolerate this place.” Yandere pouts, but quickly recovers.

“More for me then~!” he laughs, taking another sip. After leaning so far forward he’s unsteady on his feet, and takes a step back to compensate. But he overcorrects and nearly trips. Chrome grabs his arm, the one holding his daiquiri, to steady him.

“Aka-kun, don’t spiiiill it!” Yandere whines, even as he flops forward into Chrome’s chest.

“You already spilled it earlier,” Chrome mutters, “It’s time to go home. You’re way too drunk to stay here.”

“I don’t wanna go home yet!” Yandere yells, so loud a few people turn to look, “It’s only two in the morning! I’m havin’ fun!!”

“You won’t be having fun when you’re hungover tomorrow, and it’ll only be worse if you stay here all night.” Chrome moves to lead him away and out the door.

“You’re not my dad, Aka-kun!”

“I am one hundred percent certain that Dr. Iplier would’ve made you go home hours ago.”

“Aka-kuuuuuun…”

“Begging is not going to work on me right now.” Chrome continues to guide Yandere towards the club’s exit. “I’m taking you home, end of story.” Yandere’s expression suddenly becomes mischievous, and he grins.

“You’ll have to catch me first~!”

In a blink of an eye, Yandere pulls away from Chrome and dashes off back into the crowd, laughing all the while.

“Get back here!!” Chrome yells after him, giving chase.

Although Yandere is much physically weaker than Chrome, one thing he does have over him is speed. Even drunk like this, Yandere somehow runs faster than most humans. He’s certainly faster than Chrome, especially since he’s small enough to weave through the crowd. Chrome goes as fast as he can, shoving past those in his way, but he quickly loses track of Yandere.

“Fucking great,” he mutters to himself. He prepares to do a room scan. It may not help much with all the bodies in the room, but it’s his best chance of spotting Yandere. The initialization process is nearly done when–

“Heyyy, cutie, you from around here?”

Chrome somehow manages not to groan externally as he’s swarmed by three human women. What little clothing they’re wearing is too tight and the stench of alcohol coming off them almost covers up their noxious perfume.

“I don’t have time for this,” Chrome mutters. He tries to step away, but the women circle him and whine in protest.

“Oh, come on, cutie, you have time for a–” The woman pauses to hiccup. “–dance, dontcha?”

“Yeah, dance with us~!” giggles another woman, “We’re, like, really good dancers.”

“Really good,” insists the third woman, trying and failing to seductively waggle her eyebrows.

“I’m not interested,” Chrome says trying to push through, but the women practically cling to him. As much as he’d like to deck them all, he knows doing so would cause a scene and likely get him thrown out, making it that much harder to find Yandere and get him home. He swallows his anger as the women start cooing over him.

“You’re super-cute,” one of them giggles. Chrome doesn’t care which. “What’s your name?”

“None of your business.”

“My name’s Cindy–”

“I’m Jenny–”

“I’m Tiffany–” She hiccups. “You look like my ex, but he was hot!”

“…Charming.”

“He was a piece of shit, but I bet you’re awesome!”

“Dance with us already!”

“Yeah, dance!”

Chrome tries to run a room scan as the women chatter at him, but it’s hard to do with them hanging off him. It takes five minutes for them to give up and stumble off to bother someone else, but it feels like much longer.

“Christ,” Chrome mutters to himself, “I am never coming with Yandere to one of these places again.”

He finally runs the room scan. His eyes sweep over the room, looking over every person, analyzing their chemical and genetic makeup and determining species. Human, human, human, human, human…

Chrome finishes the scan without finding a single figment.

Where the hell is Yandere?

He wonders if he has a poor vantage point. It’s certainly possible; the club has multiple rooms, and though the one he’s in now is the largest, he can’t see the entire interior from here. Yandere could’ve snuck into a VIP room or went back to the bar. It’s also very likely that he’s in the bathroom puking up all his cocktails. Chrome decides to check there first.

He keeps his eyes peeled for Yandere on the way, but doesn’t see him anywhere. Once he makes it to the bathroom, he does a quick scan to see into the closed stalls. There’s someone snorting coke off the toilet lid in one stall and a man and woman pulling each other’s clothes off in another, but Yandere is nowhere to be found.

He leaves the bathroom and passes by the VIP rooms, x-ray scanning through the walls. No Yandere. He goes back to the bar and scans. No Yandere. He tries the front of the club where he lost him in the first place. No Yandere.

Where the fuck is he??

For once in his life, Chrome is stumped. Where could Yandere have gone? He wouldn’t have gone home without him, would he? Where else could he be? How could he have disappeared so fast? Chrome decides to talk to the bartender. Although he seemed to be an unsavory character from what Chrome saw of him, he might be able to tell Chrome where Yandere went. It’s hard to miss a drunk guy in a skirt, after all, and there’s a chance Yandere went back for another drink while Chrome was being harassed by the group of women. He doubles back to the bar and stands by the counter, looking for the bartender.

It only takes him a moment to see the bartender, but it’s not the same guy. He looks a little older, and seems more focused on making drinks than eyeing pretty girls. After he finishes someone’s cocktail, he approaches Chrome.

“What can I get ya?” he asks.

“I’m looking for the other bartender that was here earlier,” Chrome says.

“Ya must mean Tony,” he replies, “He just clocked out. He was heading out with someone, probably helping them home. They were pretty drunk.”

A kernel of an idea forms in Chrome’s mind. An idea he hopes isn’t the right one.

“Who?” he asks anyway.

“I dunno, some guy,” the bartender answers. He pauses. “Or maybe a girl? Couldn’t tell, to be honest, but I’m not here to judge. They were wearing a skirt, though. Why?”

A wave of anger hits Chrome hard enough to make him see red.

He gets up from the bar and storms away, ignoring the bartender’s questioning calls.

~~~

Not a minute after Yandere ran away from Chrome and back into the club, he knew something was wrong.

Vertigo hit him almost as soon as he stopped running, making him drop his nearly-gone daiquiri and stumble into the person next to him. Said person yelled at him to watch it, as did nearly every other person he bumped into as he tried to get somewhere less crowded. His body suddenly felt heavy, and part of him wanted to sit at the bar, put his head down and take a nap. He knew how ridiculous that idea was, but his wobbly legs carried him to the bar anyway, where he sat on a stool and tried to get his scrambled mind in order.

He’d drank a lot over the night, sure. More than usual, since he had Chrome with him as a sober helping hand – “had” being the operative word, as Yandere had already run away from him and was too exhausted to go back and find him. But he shouldn’t be this tired. He could hardly keep his eyes open, and he couldn’t make his voice work to ask if anyone had seen Chrome.

He blacked out for a while–maybe a moment, maybe a minute or two–and woke to someone pulling him up and guiding him away from the bar. Someone who wasn’t Chrome.

“Wha…”

“Easy, easy, I gotcha.”

“Nn…”

“Just relax, don’t fight me.”

The bartender.

Yandere still can’t remember if he’d had the bartender switch rum with vodka in his strawberry daiquiri or add both, but he definitely added something. Something to dull Yandere’s senses, something to make him sleepy and dazed, something to render him boneless and quiet in his captor’s arms.

He can hardly struggle as he’s pulled out the side door of the club and dragged through the parking lot, and he can’t manage more than a whimper to people passing by. The bartender (Tony, was that his name?) easily explains it away:

“He just had too much to drink; he’s feeling pretty miserable right about now.” A laugh. “I’m taking him home, don’t worry.”

He’s lying! Don’t believe him! Can’t you see how upset I am? Help me! Get him away from me! Don’t let him take me, please…

Some people accept his explanation, some look doubtful, but everyone keeps walking as Tony guides Yandere through the parking lot.

“I’m glad you came by for so many drinks,” Tony whispers to him, “I figured you’d notice me drugging your drink if you were sober.”

Yandere sobs.

“Shh, you’ll be fine. How are you even still awake? I thought I’d gotten the good stuff.”

Tony has a point, Yandere supposes. If Yandere were a human, he has no doubt that he’d be unconscious by now. He wonders if that’d be preferable. He starts to shiver.

How could this happen? I’m usually so much more careful, I usually don’t have people trying to drug me in the first place. I have to get away, somehow, I have to stop him. But I still can’t move! I’m so tired. God, I’m so tired. Don’t do this to me, let me go, please…

After what feels like an hour, Tony stops walking, and Yandere hears the beep of a car unlocking. He’s unceremoniously tossed into the backseat before Tony comes in after him. The sudden movement sends Yandere’s head spinning. He only barely hears the door shut and the lock click over the blood rushing through his ears. He snaps back into awareness as Tony climbs on top of him, running his hands over his sides.

Don’t touch me! You’re not allowed to touch me! Yami’s the only one who gets to touch me like that, and you’re nothing compared to him! You’re less than nothing! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t–

“There’s no way you weren’t looking to get lucky in this getup,” Tony breathes, voice heavy with lust, “I bet you already know how great that skirt makes your ass look.”

Yandere tries to sob, but he’s cut off by Tony’s lips over his and his tongue pushing into Yandere’s mouth. Tony’s hands wander under Yandere’s shirt to rub his chest and pinch his nipples. Yandere tries desperately to push him off, but his body won’t cooperate. The adrenaline coursing through him only makes it harder to focus on moving his limbs, and it heightens his fear until he’s panicking too much to struggle.

Oh god oh god oh god stop it stop it get away from me please stop no no please get away get away don’t touch me stop it oh god why why why why why–

“Good boy,” Tony croons as Yandere goes limp, “The sooner you relax and let it happen, the more fun it’ll be for both of us.”

Yandere’s stomach churns, but he doesn’t have the strength to throw up. Not even when Tony presses closer, grinding his erection against Yandere’s crotch.

GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME–

“I almost couldn’t wait,” Tony says, panting into Yandere’s ear, “I almost said “screw it” and went to the bathroom to think of you and jerk off. But I’m glad I didn’t.”

Yandere sobs again, trembling ever harder underneath him. He feels a moment of relief when Tony gets off him, but it immediately fades when Tony flips him over onto his stomach, pulling him closer by his legs. The motion sends a wave of dizziness rushing through Yandere’s mind. Fatigue pulls at him ever harder, but he knows how dangerous it would be to pass out now. Once again, Tony’s next action pulls him to full alertness: He grabs Yandere by the hips and pulls his bottom half up, before moving his hands under Yandere’s skirt to grope him.

“I said it already, but your ass is fantastic,” Tony says, squeezing it roughly. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.”

Yandere is too panicked and weak and tired to even sob anymore, but his heart is still racing in his chest, fear still pulses through him with every heartbeat, spiking when he hears the ripping of a condom wrapper.

Oh god, this is happening, this is really happening. He’s going to rape me in the back of his car. Is he going to keep me here all night? Is he going to kill me after so I can’t tell? And even if he doesn’t, what am I going to do? What happens when I get home? What am I going to tell the others? God, what am I going to tell Yami?? And Aka-kun, oh god, he’s probably still looking for me! Why did I run away from him? Why didn’t I just agree to go home!? I shouldn’t have drank so much, I should’ve been more careful, I should’ve stayed with Aka-kun…Let me go back, let me do it over, please, please, I don’t want this, I can’t do this, please…

Yandere feels Tony push his skirt up and grab the hem of his underwear when the car suddenly rocks.

“What the hell?” Tony mutters, pausing his hands.

Next is the screeching of metal, and all at once, Yandere can feel the cool night air at his back.

“Woah, hey, who’re–”

Tony’s weight suddenly disappears from Yandere’s legs, and he scrambles to turn back over and see what’s happening. Meanwhile, he can hear Tony struggling against whatever–or whoever–pulled him away from Yandere.

“Look, we don’t need to tell anybody about this, alright? I can share if it’ll keep you quiet. I–wait, fuck, STO–”

Tony’s agonized screams are quickly cut off by the loud crunch of bone, followed by a heavy thud.

Yandere’s drugged and addled mind can barely keep up with what’s happening, so he panics even further when new arms scoop him up and out of the car. His limbs feel like jelly, so all he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and whimper.

“Calm down, Yan,” says a familiar voice, “It’s just me.”

Yandere’s eyes pop open to look up at the person holding him. It may be a pitch-black night with only the light from inside the car to see by, but the glowing red eyes staring down at him are unmistakable.

“Aka…” he gasps, relief crashing over him in a wave.

It’s Chrome, of course it’s Chrome. He wouldn’t have just left without Yandere, he’s probably been looking for him since he ran off. Yandere wonders what happened to Tony, and gets his answer when he looks down. Tony’s body is sprawled on the ground, like a doll carelessly thrown. His face is unrecognizable; bloody and meaty and misshapen, as if Chrome simply grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed. Knowing Chrome, he probably did just that.

“Did he hurt you?” Chrome asks. Yandere knows what he’s really asking.

“No…” Yandere answers, struggling to speak through the drug’s effects, “You…stopped him…”

Yandere can practically feel Chrome’s relief as his viselike hold on Yandere loosens ever-so-slightly. Despite this, Yandere can still feel the tightness in his muscles, still see the bright angry glow of his eyes. It’s clear he’s still enraged over Tony, even though the man’s already dead. Chrome is still seething, and his body is tense in a way that suggests he wants to keep killing, wants to destroy something, anything. Yandere knows him well enough to know that in any other situation, Chrome would be doing just that. But instead, he holds Yandere to his chest with a gentleness Yandere didn’t know he was capable of.

“We’re going home,” Chrome says.

Yandere can only nod.

The walk back to Ego, Inc. is mostly silent, with Chrome walking his typical brisk walk at a slightly faster clip than normal, and Yandere holding onto him tight. Every once in a while Chrome’s hold on Yandere tightens as well when they pass people on the sidewalk that give the pair strange looks. A few people try to approach them, but Chrome’s low, growled-out warnings and cutting glare send them back the way they came.

Yandere, meanwhile, is only barely aware of what other people are doing around him. He’s still working through exactly what happened, processing how he almost experienced something too horrible for words–hell, he already did; despite Chrome’s arms holding him tight, Yandere can still almost feel Tony’s hands crawling over his body. He can’t bear to imagine what he’d be experiencing right now if Chrome hadn’t come to the club with him, but he can’t stop thinking about how much better off he’d be if he’d just listened to Chrome in the first place instead of running off. He’d probably be crying if he wasn’t so tired.

Now that the panic and adrenaline has worn off, Yandere is more exhausted than ever. Whatever drug Tony had given him is still in his system, and he can only keep his eyes half-open. Not to mention he’s almost positive that Chrome has intentionally turned up the heat of his core to keep Yandere warm against the night’s chill. As tired and sluggish as he is, he doesn’t want to fall asleep yet.

“Aka-kun,” he whispers.

“What?” Chrome asks.

“’M sorry,” Yandere mumbles, “For…runnin’ off…”

“Are you kidding?” Chrome snaps, “Don’t apologize, you’ve been punished enough.”

“Arigato,” Yandere breathes, “Arigato…gozaimasu.”

“Christ, Yan…” Chrome huffs, “It’s not like I was just gonna leave you there. Why the hell do you think I came with you tonight in the first place?”

“Y’came…” Yandere says lifting his head to look at Chrome’s face, “Y’came to…protect me…?”

“Well,” Chrome mutters, clearly embarrassed, “I sure as hell didn’t come because I thought it’d be fun.”

Yandere smiles and lets his head drop back into Chrome’s shoulder.

“You’re th’best…”

“Yeah, whatever, just…just be more careful next time, alright? Especially if I don’t come with you.”

“Mmhmm…”

“…I’m glad you’re okay.”

Yandere doesn’t speak, but instead smiles against Chrome’s shoulder.

After so long of trying to keep himself awake, he lets himself relax. He has nothing to fear now that he’s bundled in Chrome’s arms. He finally begins to fall asleep, finally feels safe enough to do so. His head droops further into Chrome’s shoulder, and he yawns so big he squeaks. Chrome, in turn, holds him closer. Yandere’s eyes start to drift closed.

“Go to sleep, I’ve got you,” Chrome whispers.

“I know,” Yandere whispers back, just before sleep overtakes him.

[itelindia6]

Back to the Future: The Astro Slide 5G from Planet Computers

 Years ago, I owned a Psion Organiser, which, at the time, changed into the best device for taking notes using thumb typing. The Nokia Communicator 9000 series took the idea a degree in addition, including a Qwerty keyboard to a mobile handset, which supposed no extra hassle trying to get documents off the device. I additionally had a hazard using the Ericsson R380 and the Blackberry Q10 has become a pocketable mobile workhorse, in conditions wherein the usage of a pc become now not possible. Back in the one's days, the principal applications I used were for word processing and electronic mail. And prior to the Q10, the satisfactory mobile internet to be had on those older devices became through WAP (wireless software protocol).

However, today we expect a totally featured internet browsing experience on our clever devices, online video and music on-call, instantaneous messaging offerings, and cellular video conferencing.

Two decades on given that I first used a phone with a complete QWERTY keyboard and the Astro Slide 5G from Planet Computers is revisiting this form element – as a tool for people who hate typing on a smartphone touchscreen. It’s interesting to see where Planet Computers positions the brand-new 5 G-prepared devices. When I spoke to the CEO, Janko Music-Flogel, he stated there are a number of key packages, which definitely no longer have an amazing user revel in on the standard touch keypad Phone. One of these is terminal emulation; the other is manipulating spreadsheets.

Both advantages from having a large landscape display and a separate keyboard with real cursor navigation keys. “Personally, I became sort of missing a device that I should really write on that’s pocketable,” he provides.

For Music-Flogel the Astro Slide 5G is ready to present users with “proper empowerment of their wallet”. This, he says, was the incentive at the back of beginning the London-based total organization, which crowdfunded its first tool, Gemini, in 2018.

In terms of specification, the Astro Slide 5G offers a full mechanical keyboard, an FHD show with a display screen decision of 2340 with the aid of 1080, and a forty-eight MP camera in a 172.4 x seventy-six. Five x 18.7mm tool that weighs 325g. There isn't any denying it is a big device that without a doubt bulges and weighs down a trouser or jacket pocket. But it runs Android eleven, and Planet Computers is helping the choice to twin boot into Linux.

While Music-Flogel describes the perception of zero arms (ie touchscreen most effective), one hand and -exceeded utilization, with Android Office productivity apps like Google Docs and Office 365, I found it tougher using thumb typing than the devices I had used over twenty years ago. But on a flat floor, it's far definitely smooth to kind almost well, for the reason that the keyboard is simply over 1/2 as wide as the Logitech K380 I am currently the use of.

In an attempt to emulate how an IT admin should use this device, I mounted the Terminus app to attach over SSH to a Raspberry Pi. It is actually usable, a good deal extra than trying to get admission to a Linux command line at the normal touchscreen keyboard of a cellphone. I like the reality the terminal console suggests up as a full display, which leaves the IT admin unfastened to kind away on the bodily keyboard.

I also ran Chrome Remote Desktop to check access to a Windows PC, emulating the consumer's enjoy of streaming a Windows computer. Again, it’s usable, however, the narrow screen top meant that I had to scroll around the remote computing device quite a lot. Accessing the net and web-based applications is a long way easier, which I agree with is how the Astro Slide 5G will especially be used.

To allow the device to run working structures apart from Android, Music-Flogel says Planet Computers has opened up the kernel and the bootloader permitting the open supply network to increase distros of Linux that may be loaded onto Planet Computers’ devices. In fact, final yr, a version of Debian turned into made available for its Cosmo Communicator device, the smaller sibling to the Astro-Slide 5G.

[savrenim]

so Event Horizon happened and I am.......full of feelings

I played Osiris Aeon, who was this kid-AI; she’d been a normal kid running around the ruins of Din Shass getting into trouble and playing pranks on other gangs of kids with her friends and going on mock-expeditions into the Ancient ruins and just getting into trouble, until on one of these expeditions, she collapsed. She woke up a few hours later in the med bay and thought she was fine but her best friend and sister insisted that they wait for the prognosis and when it came in....it wasn’t good. She had a neurodegenerative disease. It was incurable. She was going to die in a few months, and there was nothing anyone could do as week by week she lost more and more control of her body until she was trapped in it, unable to move, unable to do anything.

To save her, her sister came up with a crazy scheme, a highly illegal and experimental procedure to upload her consciousness in an android body. It worked. Mostly. The parts of her brain that did motor control were too far gone, so she ended up a virtual consciousness. Not dead, but digital. She had been an AI for two years and made a lot of friends on the interwebs, other AIs and hackers and private detectives and a corporate spymaster who caught her hacking his documents because she was bored and went “okay, what if instead of blackmailing you I let you have access to the documents as long as you don’t share them, and also what if I kind of act like a mentor figure to you to make sure that you don’t fall into this trap again.” She became an Augment and AI rights activist, rather secretly, because she knew her family wouldn’t really approve, She became friends with CAS, the AI that controlled the biggest corporation in the galaxy, because hey, why not. Oh, and her mother, Tempest, leader of the Stormriders, the biggest crime syndicate in the galaxy died, leaving her older sister the new Tempest. 

That’s where I was at the start of game.

Osiris was a good person. She cared about her sister. She cared deeply about the team of Stormriders that she was the hacking-support to, even though she knew and was somewhat morally conflicted about “we’re kind of the bad guys, or at least one version of the bad guys considering how corporations are the other bad guys but I’m working for the bad guys,” she was one of the integral members of a group that was going to pull of a hack to try to steal Enterios Augment designs and post them open-source online, she was trying to hire a hacker to remove the intelligence cap from one of her AI friends, she was deeply invested in a lot of people’s lives and their struggles and their stories because she’d met them and she’d listened to them and she cared about them even though she wasn’t really sure who she was or what she was or if there was anyone else out there like her at all.

And then she met Glass.

I knew about Glass, I helped write the character sheets for this game. Glass was a much older AI, with a very long-term mission, who thought that she is saving the galaxy and is ready to do anything to ensure that her mission is completed. When I was reading things and writing things, and learned about her, my reaction was “oh, she’s.....so right????” I wanted to be a part of her plotline. I really, really wanted to play something adjacent to her. I put in a request on my character sheet to get to be involved in the Glass plotline.

My corporate spymaster friend happened to have a copy of Glass, and when he learned that Osiris was looking into her--Osiris only having heard about the maybe existence of an AI named Glass who might be like her, might have been a person once too--offered to let Osiris meet her. Osiris was very interested in meeting her, and promptly, Glass forcibly downloaded herself into Osiris’s head, overtook all of Osiris’s systems, and essentially trapped Osiris in her own not-even-body-anymore again, unable to move, unable to control anything, until Glass had deemed Osiris on her side enough to give back bits of control, and spent the rest of the night impersonating her so that besides the tiny bits of messages Osiris had been able to get out about something being wrong, no one knew, and she could only watch as Glass slipped into her life and lied to her friends and began to enact her own will.

(There was a video message for my team to decode the next day that was suitably Dramatic about all of this: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1eXBjce5ypC7Ac4QM87LVVycXS0H0ld9n/view?usp=sharing )

Except Glass wasn’t cruel, not really. Glass opened a line between her and Oculus (the corporate spymaster) because Oculus knew, so Osiris did have one person to talk to so she could stop having a panic attack about dying all over again. And Glass was talking to her, ensuring her that she wasn’t overwriting her code to destroy her, that it was going to be a help, not a hindrance, to have Glass there too, that Glass could provide stabilization and support. Glass told her about the end of the universe, and what she was doing to stop it. And Osiris agreed wholeheartedly with that mission, with everything that Glass was doing because someone had to do something, this was so much bigger than her, this was so much bigger than all of them, maybe she could make a difference.

There were a lot of other really, really fantastic plotlines that I connected with. My detective buddy pinged me asking if I could scan an AI’s memories to see if they’d been in an Android on a certain night, and I said yeah, and then CAS, the most powerful being in the galaxy, pinged me going “here, I have the memories for you to look over” because it was CAS trying to clear their name. I got closer with my sister, including an incredibly emotional conversation of telling her about Glass and telling her that I was okay with Glass and a whole bunch of emotional stuff that we hadn’t addressed of Osiris having physically died and not really being as okay to suddenly only be virtual as she’d claimed and what it meant to her that Glass existed and that she wasn’t alone in that way anymore. And I continued to be involved in the crazy murder plot of hacking for receipts and scanning memories and tracking Augment signatures. Operation Kernel, the hacktivists, successfully got those Augment designs. I had people pinging me right and left about could I look up this person or find dirt on this corporation, we found deserters of the Stormriders but made a deal not to make an example of them if they helped our group track down a computer virus that had been split into 16 parts that, if assembled and decoded, could allow the user to take complete control of any AI or computer operating system, I was decoding and putting together the computer virus, I got my friend uncapped, I found my maybe-father who didn’t even know I existed and learned that he killed my mother (also cue a dramatic video message: https://drive.google.com/file/d/17bcaqzwSMJh-tARM7z-LJTRWYscqqv2k/view?usp=sharing .) And we sort of...re-initiated contact. There was also the incredibly stressful moment in which I (okay, Glass) successfully pulled off a negotiation with Admiral Therra, potentially the most revered, feared, glorified, and hated figure in the galaxy, the man who had immolated a planet during the Homeworld war and spent the rest of his life trying to fix it which included 30 years ago stealing the Agerran Capital ship above New Gyr and using it to recruit a fleet of sort-of pirates called Ya-Rett’s Irregulars to form a blockage against Agerre, Therra’s former homeworld, because he believed that he needed to dismantle the society that created him before he died--and I pulled off a successful negotiation of “do not hunt me or my team down, you let us get away with this virus, and I will not use it against you, and will give you all the information you want on the procedure that turned me from a human into an AI.” It was a damn wild adventure full of ups and downs and interesting connections and friends and stories.

Glass didn’t kill Osiris directly. But over the weekend, I slowly watched her die. I slowly watched thoughts about the universe ending, about the Mission, about expanding and gaining power and assets and controlling things from behind the scenes become more and more prominent in Osiris’s head, and the things that she was saying to her friends about caring about them or wanting to make things right becoming more and more blatant manipulation instead of her own genuine feelings. I gained Glass, and I lost everyone I loved, or at least my ability to care about them. And that was a really heavy experience for me.

An incredible experience. An incredible story. And I have it all written down so I can go back through it, hell, I have chat-logs between Osiris and Glass because I am that extra, it was a beautiful and it was tragic and it’s probably hitting harder because I was up until 4AM every night keeping up with the rest of the game happening in a different timezone, but it was beautiful, and it was worth it, and also damn if I’m not going to have feelings about everything that Osiris became, and about what she sacrificed for all that Glass-and-Osiris gained.

[tunnels-end]

Y’know why I hate Java people?

After installing Android Studio, I noticed kernel_task was taking up an entire CPU core. I tried rebooting my computer with absolutely nothing open, kernel_task was still taking up an entire core. Rebooted in safe mode, same thing happened.

Now one would figure there’s no way this problem had anything to do with Android Studio since it wasn’t even open and I could find no evidence that anything related to Android Studio was running in the background.

Running out of options and desperate to have a working computer, I Android Studio and wiped all its files from my hard drive on the off chance it would do something. The problem immediately went away.

What I find most bizarre about the whole ordeal is that, whatever the problem was, it manifested as the system kernel, rather than the problematic task itself, taking so much CPU time.

[holytheoristtastemaker]

Disclaimer: I’m writing about my experience with major OS (Windows 10, macOs High/Sierra, Ubuntu/Manjaro) using a Solid State Drive. It has a huge impact in term of speed and it could be different from your own experience.

Hello there. To begin with, this post isn’t about what’s the best OS for everyday programming, it could depend on the stack used, Misc programs and specially YOU, so i’ll try to describe all the good/bad things that happened during my everyday workflows.

But before that I should let you know my programming stack so you won't get confused later. I mainly use:

PHP frameworks and CMS

nodejs frameworks for frontend

react native/ionic for mobile dev

Photoshop (with CssHat) for HTML Integration, banner for mobile apps.

ms office due to my current job.[1]

Ubuntu (Unity/Gnome):

By the end of 2015 and after a good run with Windows 7 and using Ubuntu just occasionally in virtual machines I thought I would give it a shot with a daily usage so I installed the 15.10 version. back then i was programming in PHP, Java and C# (because of my Software engineering Studies), php and apache had great performances locally, same for java but used a windows 7 VM for Visual Studio, Ms Office and Adobe Photoshop, because all the alternatives (Darkable/Gimp, Open office) weren't at the same levels. I tried but the more you use them the more you notice their weak points such as ease of use, backward compatibility.

I had a good (exactly 2 years) run switching between Unity and Gnome DE (I was the n°1 hater for KDE btw), but over time and even with SSD it felt a kinda slow (I was always stuck with 16.04 LTS) and honestly, I wasn’t fan of the Ubuntu’s PPAs either and then I discovered the Hackintosh community.

macOs (10.12/10.14)

So after a hell of an installation process I managed to run macOs Sierra smoothly on a laptop that has hardware near to macbook pro late 2012 (HP elitebook 840 G1). Apps installed with one simple drag n’ drop (applies to android studio too). It run the Android Virtual Device smoother than windows 7 and ubuntu with the same laptop, i was very surprised, the memory management, the apps integration and the overall stability was so great. At that time I finished my studies so no more Java or .Net programming, and the adobe/ms office suite was a strong point compared to Linux in general so every program ran natively without the need of any VM, with our beloved Unix cli.

The only drawback I had with mac, or with hackintosh, is the system updates/upgrades it was so painful to do it breaks your system every time, I was backing up the whole bootable system image whenever I attempted to update. Because the Kexts (Kernel extensions or “drivers”) weren’t always backward compatible.

So in the end i was thinking to go back to linux again but not sure which distribution i will stick with again, I wanted a stable distro that i forgot completely about something called upgrades of “big updates”. In the meantime I give Windows 10 another shot after hearing it got better and better in the last years.

And again, after 2 years with no workflow complaints I backed up my hackintosh installation and installed the last build of windows 10.

Windows 10.

I’ll resume my experience with one line: “not great, not terrible” Compared, again, to mac os the system was very smooth in every way, snapping windows, switching virtual desktops, programs and files search in the start menu, no problem but! I already missed the unix cli. Yeah I know there’s cmder and other tools. The overall performance was okay but there was some latency when compiling node js apps. My workflow didn’t change. I used Laragon for all my php projects with phpstorm and it was perfect honestly. On the other hand Android Emulator was terrible even with 8gb or ram and ssd, mac os was handling it way better.

In the meantime I played with some linux distros in VMs and made the choice: Manjaro, KDE flavor.

Manjaro:

“You said you hated KDE right?” well yes but for a cause, one I didn’t want to bring back the Gnome memories i had with Ubuntu and second, I disliked is because its similarity in UI compared to Windows in general, 10 specially then I found how very customizable was and again i’ll resume it with one line: “everything is a widget”. So in term of UI I made my simple comfortable setup.

Now in term of programs and workflow I still use PhpStorm for my php and nodejs projects, npm and yarn installed globally and surprisingly npm run very fast compared to windows and mac; git already installed, but for my php projects I migrate all of them to docker with docker compose, majority of projects were based on Laravel, Prestashop, Wordpress and old native php apps. I managed to dockerize some of them from scratch, some with Laradock.

Java/.Net: RIP.

For mobile development there were some struggles during configuring ionic and react native’s first run but done with them quickly, no problem with android studio but the emulator “again” wasn’t that good as mac os, but not that bad like windows. And I discovered a helpful package that cast my connected android device to my screen and it’s shown as a virtual device but a physical one, called scrcpy from the genymotion team!

And finally these are just some of the benefits why I picked manjaro:

No big breaking updates.

A rolling release distro.

Fast security patches.

The Great Arch User Repository (AUR)

Snap and Flatpak support (but why?)

Very stable.

But still there are some drawback, linux’s ones in general:

Still needing photoshop and lightroom.

Ms Office for work purpose (Managed to use Web version since we have ms365 but still miss Excel for heavy use)

Conclusion:

Finally and personally I’ll stick with linux for these main two reasons: native support for docker (future projects could be deployed with it) and the unix environment similarity to production servers (cli, ssh and packages’ configuration). I understand many of you will disagree for many things said in the post but that’s okay! because, finally, we choose what will help us to give the most of us in terms of productivity.

Thank you all for reading the most boring post ever made on Dev.to platform! I would gladly hear from you some of your thoughts and experiences as well. Thanks again! [1]

[1]: edit. added used stack and a conclusion.

[lolcat76]

Sarcastic/snarky commentators Bill/Laura either during movie night to boost morale in canon (frustrated with being stuck with trash bc who remembers quality movies for the end of the world?) or an AU where their original movie wouldn't play on the projector and they can't choose the movie they get a voucher for.

At first, Lee calledevery Friday night at exactly 1900 hours. Bill respected the precise timing ofthe calls – he could wrap up his work on his model ship, throw the day’s dishesinto the dishwasher and have a glass of Scotch while he waited for his son’sturn at phone privileges. Given that they’d barely spoken in the two yearsbefore his retirement party, when they’d both gotten drunk and yelled at eachother for the better part of what was supposed to be a celebration, Bill wasgrateful for the fifteen minutes or so Lee could spare out of his dutyschedule. He was more than happy to clear his busy schedule of puttering aroundhis apartment and looking for meaningful ways to fill the hours in his day thathe could share with his son.

As the weeks turned intomonths, the calls got shorter and turned into a quick check-in. You doing ok, Dad? Anything going on?People are waiting, and I have to go.

He was doing just fine, andnothing was going on. The people that were waiting were clearly waiting on hisson to finish up his duty call and get back to the action, if the muffledgiggling and shouting he heard in the background was any indication.

Well, good for Lee.Being stuck out at sea for nine months of the year was no reason not to enjoyhimself. Just because Bill spent his time on his ships worrying about the wifeand kids he left behind was no reason for Lee, still young and single, not todo all the things that Bill pretended he didn’t see or hear back in the daywhen he was Lee’s age.

“Dad, can I call you onMonday instead? We’re a little…busy on Friday nights.”

No, no reason at all forLee to plan his schedule around his old man. “Monday’s fine, son. Be careful.”

He was too old to beupset about his Friday night plans being cancelled, but Bill still foundhimself at a loss. After retiring, every day was much like the other, but thekid in him still wanted a reason to look forward to Friday nights.

He could work on hisship. He could read. He could dig through the collection of movies that satgathering dust on his shelf.

He could go out, find a bite to eat, maybe see what Friday nights onCapitol Hill looked like.

Friday nights on CapitolHill looked like Friday nights everywhere else. Bars were full, kids weredrunk, and old men like him should be at home with their families. His usualWednesday night joint was packed with coeds from the university, and he’dbarely managed to make it through his burger and beer before a group of girlsshrieked in his ear for a round of lemon drops. Joe waved away his cash.

“I’ll cover it thistime. Betting I had a better night tonight than you did.”

The girls leaning overhis stool, tits pushed up to their chins, had no interest in an old man butthey sure looked friendly toward the bartender. He wouldn’t take that bet. Billthrew a ten-dollar bill on the counter and grabbed his coat. Spring nights inSeattle were milder than they were in New Jersey, where he grew up, but itstill got a hell of a lot colder here than it did in the Persian Gulf.

He checked his watch ashe left the bar. 2100. Even after eight months of retirement, his body stillhadn’t given in to civilian life, and he knew he still had a good three hoursbefore he’d be able to fall asleep. Maybe a walk would do him good. Theneighborhood was still awake, at least. Maybe, if he told Lee he’d spent hisFriday night on the town, his son wouldn’t sound so pitying on the phone.

There were worse things to wish for, after all.

He found himself infront of a movie theater, one that had old neon and an Art Deco tower. Itreminded him of summers with his father in in Miami, when his old man took himto the movies because he had no idea what to say to the son who’d become astranger after the divorce. Several of the letters in the marquis were burnedout, and the façade had seen better days. The theatre was past its prime andbarely hanging on, just like him.

Bl de R nner

Blade Runner? He hadn’t seen that movie in years. It was worth a fewbucks, Harrison Ford and some robots and a plot that he couldn’t quiteremember. Didn’t end well, but then, did anything?

He’d read Philip K.Dick, years ago, when he was stuck on his first carrier ship and had a CO wholiked to read. Colonel Massey used to leave books lying around the mess hall,and Bill was the only private who picked them up and took them to his quarters.He had nothing else to do while he daydreamed about his girl at home in Norfolk,so he read Dick, and Marlowe, and DeLillo and Atwood for good measure. He readwhatever he could get his hands on.

In those days, it wasthe Commies they feared, but when he fell asleep on his narrow bunk, he dreamedof dystopias, of robots taking control.

Now, the news was fullof Islamic terrorists and the wall between Mexico and the US, but he looked upat that neon sign and remembered the nightmares he used to have of steel,inhuman bodies with glowing red eyes.

Fiction.

He could use a good doseof fiction, a reminder that the androids he still dreamed about were dreamed upsomewhere a good thousand miles south of Seattle. He bought a ticket and asmall bucket of popcorn.

Bill was halfway throughhis popcorn when the projector started to slow and then stalled, the filmmelting against the bulb in the projector. No wonder the ticket was only threebucks – they couldn’t even afford a digital projector.

The crowd started toboo, tossing half-burnt popcorn kernels at the screen. His ticket cost threebucks; his popcorn cost six. It was likely to be the best meal he had allnight, so he folded the corners of the bag down and tucked it into his jacket.

Most of the audiencecrowded the poor kid handing out vouchers for a free movie, and Bill hung back,waiting for people to clear out. He’d seen Blade Runner a good five times bynow, and he’d only come tonight because he had nothing better to do. By thetime he made it up to the usher with the vouchers in his hand, it was just Billand one other movie patron.

She wasn’t the usualCapitol Hill crowd; the lines on her face as she smiled at the usher told himshe was closer to his age than not. She was tucked into a too-big khaki jacketand nursing an overpriced soda, and he waved at her to allow her to go in frontof him.

“Ma’am,” the kid said ashe pulled a voucher off the pad in his hands, and Bill blanched at thecondescending tone.

“Sir,” the kidcontinued. He pressed a voucher in Bill’s hand, and Bill had to fight back theurge to pop the kid in the face. Being called Sir by his crew was fine; beingcalled Sir by a kid at the movie theater was insulting, and it made him feelold.

“God, I feel old,” shewhispered as he followed her down the hallway to the theatre’s lobby. “Ma’am?And here I thought I was living on the edge by going to a movie on a Fridaynight.”

“Maybe the problem isgoing to a movie that was made 30 years ago,” he said.

“Maybe,” sheacknowledged, “I’m pretty sure most of the audience here tonight weren’t made30 years ago either.”

He laughed, taken bysurprise at her sharp comment. She wasn’t wrong.

“Cheer up,” he said. “Maybenext week it’ll be a second-run superhero movie.”

She hummed in response,sending a thrill up his spine. The last time he’d had such a visceral reactionto a vibration like that, he’d been shipboard for three weeks and knee-deep ina training exercise about deepwater missiles ricocheting off his submarine.Same frequency, same depth charge. Same feeling of the hairs on the back of hisneck standing at attention.

Same little voice in hishead whispering to him about danger and covering his ass.

“I never really likedthis movie,” she whispered, her voice taking on a conspirational tone as sheslowed to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Always liked Philip K. Dick, butHarrison Ford? He’s Luke Skywalker or Indiana Jones.”

“Don’t let him hear yousay that,” he said, and he was pleasantly surprised that she snorted a laugh inresponse.

“Something tells me I’msafe there,” she said.

“If you don’t like themovie, why did you come tonight?”

She shrugged. “Apparently,sitting at home on a Friday night is pathetic.”

Wasn’t that the truth. Hepushed open the door that led to Broadway and laid a hand on the small of herback to guide her through. “And seeing a movie that you hate, not to mentionpaying too much for a soda, isn’t?”

She pulled up the hoodon her jacket to cover her hair from Seattle’s ever-present rain. It was ashame, he thought. He’d caught just enough of a glimpse of her hair as theypassed through the hallway to want to see what it looked like under thestreetlights. He couldn’t tell if it was brown, or red, or something inbetween, but he could tell that it was long and curled against her shoulders.He wanted to see more of it. He wanted to see more of her.

She looked up at himfrom under her hood and pulled her glasses off her face, tucking them in herjacket pocket. He couldn’t see her hair under the streetlights, but he couldmake out her eyes – he’d never seen eyes that shade of green before. “Sometimesit’s good to get out of the house, even if you’re paying too much for a soda-“she tapped his jacket, where the edges of his popcorn peeked out – “or a snack.”

“Or dinner?” he asked.

“I ate before I came,”she said. “Dinner, at least, was free.”

“That’s too bad, becauseI didn’t eat before the show,” he lied smoothly, “and I have to admit, I’venever met anyone who knew that Blade Runner was a book before it was a movie.”

“You need to meet abetter class of people.”

Wasn’t that the truth. “There’s a little Mexican restaurant down theblock. Best tacos in Seattle. I bet, if we ask nicely, they’ll even let you inwith that jumbo soda of yours. What do you say? Want to talk about books andHarrison Ford?”

She pushed the hood backjust enough so that she could study him thoroughly, and he caught the glint ofstreetlights in her bangs. Red, her hairwas red.

“Depends on how youanswer the next question. Indiana Jones or Han Solo?”

He brushed her bangs offher forehead and pulled the hood back to cover her from the steady drizzle. “MarionRavenwood or Princess Leia,” he said. “I’ve always been a sucker for a woman incharge.”

She laughed at that,then tucked her hand into his arm. “Good answer. And because I’m in charge, we’regoing for Chinese, not tacos.”

He tossed his leftoverpopcorn and her cup of soda in the trash as they dodged college kids and drunkidiots along the bars and clubs of Broadway. “That sounds good to me,” he said.

She grinned up at him,her smile barely visible under her hood. “it is good,” she echoed.

Better than good, he thought as he pulled out her chair in therestaurant she picked. Better than good,he thought as she tugged her jacket off her shoulders and revealed a deep redsweater that set off her ivory skin and green eyes. Better than good, as she teased him about the menu and orderedwine and dinner, promising him that he could be in charge for dessert. Betterthan good. Perfect.

Tomorrow, he’d call Leeand thank him. Tonight, he’d enjoy every second he got to spend with the womanacross from him.

He raised his glass. “Togood things,” he said.

She touched her glass tohis. “To bad movies.”

He watched her as shesipped her wine, then reached over to cover her free hand with his. “To nextweek.”

She laced her fingersthrough his. “To Friday nights.”

To Friday nights.Definitely, he was going to call Lee tomorrow and thank him, because for thefirst time in years, he was pretty sure he was going to plan on Friday nightsthat didn’t involve his son.

“To Friday nights,” he echoed, and squeezed her fingers.      

[savetopnow]

2018-03-08 00 LINUX now

LINUX

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Last chance: Subscribe now to get the highly anticipated comeback issue!

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Meet Endless OS, a lightweight Linux distro

Exploring free and open webfonts

Kubernetes Graduates CNCF Incubator, Debuts New Sandbox

Top Tools to Access Remote Linux Desktop

Linux.com

Protecting Code Integrity with PGP — Part 4: Moving Your Master Key to Offline Storage

One Week Until Embedded Linux Conference + OpenIoT Summit in Portland: Will You Join Us?

LFD420 Linux Kernel Internals and Development

Submit a Proposal to Speak at OS Summit Japan and Automotive Linux Summit By March 18

Most Useful Linux Commands You Can Run in Windows 10

Reddit Linux

Mods not keeping the sub clean / Up-tick in low quality content?

Installed libreboot on ThinkPad t60 now it won't boot Fedora 28

400k servers may be at risk of serious code-execution attacks. Patch now [Exim]

Should I give linux a try?

is there a program that will analyze my typing then open a typing tutor when i need to practice

Riba Linux

SwagArch GNU/Linux 18.03 overview | A simple and beautiful Everyday Desktop

How to install Nitrux 1.0.9

Nitrux 1.0.9 overview | Change The Rules

Pixel OS 1.0 "Apu" Public Beta 1 overview | Meet Pixel OS

How to set up a FAMP server (FreeBSD, Apache, MySQL, PHP) + webmin admin panel on GhostBSD / FreeBSD

Slashdot Linux

Microsoft Confirms Windows 10 'S Mode'

Facebook's VPN Service Onavo Protect Collects Personal Data -- Even When It's Switched Off

Chrome 65 Arrives With Material Design Extensions Page, New Developer Features

Mercedes' Futuristic Headlights Shine Warning Symbols On the Road

Sri Lanka Blocks Facebook, Instagram To Prevent Spread of Hate Speech

Softpedia

Mozilla Firefox 58.0.2 / 59.0 Beta 14

Evolution 3.26.6

Evolution 3.28.0 RC

Evolution Data Server 3.26.6 / 3.28.0 RC

Evolution Mapi 3.26.6 / 3.28.0 RC

Tecmint

How to Enable and Disable Root Login in Ubuntu

8 Best Tools to Access Remote Linux Desktop

How to Install NetBeans IDE 8.2 in Debian, Ubuntu and Linux Mint

How to Install NetBeans IDE in CentOS, RHEL and Fedora

Get Complete Full Stack Developer eBook Bundle [16 eBooks]

nixCraft

400K+ Exim MTA affected by overflow vulnerability on Linux/Unix

Book Review: SSH Mastery – OpenSSH, PuTTY, Tunnels & Keys

How to use Chomper Internet blocker for Linux to increase productivity

Linux/Unix desktop fun: Simulates the display from “The Matrix”

Ubuntu 17.10 no longer available for download due to LENOVO bios getting corrupted

[ecotone99]

[NF] Autismo

Be me, 11 or so years old.

You've gotten your hands on a computer fan somehow, you're don't remember, but your father doesn't seem to care that you have it for some reason.

You're holding it out of the side of the Truck and it's spinning at an insanely high speed. You love the sound of the "whirrrrrrrRRRRRR^RRRRRRRRR^rrrrrrr" that revs up as you change the angle of entry into the feedback do-nothing electric turbine you invented

You've loved planes ever since your mom helped you make one out of hot glue and cardboard with her when you were 4 years old. You modeled it after something she found on the internet probably, and you flew it down the stairs but it dived because we used too much glue (I'm hard on things, she probably wanted to compensate but didn't know about the rocket science of center of gravity vs center of pressure/propulsion.) You wish you understood why the plane didn't fly like a plane

You see a fly TRAPPED on the dash of the truck because it won't risk flight in this turbulence. you don't know why but you can't imagine what it's like to be a fly since your mom got you a book about flies and other insects that you loved because insects scare you but the pretty book told you which ones are scary and which ones just look scary, so it's okay. Mom is gone now, but she told you lots before Dad started yelling at you every day. It's going to be okay, he tells you that he loves you. You don't have to be scared of the medicines, just look them up on wikipedia and try to understand. Someday you'll realize it wasn't okay and you'll cry even more, but that's okay. right?

The fly is only alive for like 4 days. Sometimes people call it a fly, if there's a bunch of them it's called flies and all you know is that they're bad for food. You don't want them on your food, for some weird reason. The book didn't tell me about that.

I can't see the fly's whole life, but I can imagine it, mostly because the book talked a lot about flies because that makes sense when you see so many flies, that's what you'd want to know about the most so that's what people know the most about.

It's boring to be a fly. You just go, "OH SHIT I'M ALIVE BETTER FIND FOOD", then you master the food thing and you go "F*** B**** GET MONEY" and then you die, like that's the whole thing and it takes like 4 days. No time for questions.

*3.5 years later*

A psychologist with a funny last name sits across from you at a hexagonal picnic bench under a gazebo at the end of a red hexagonal cinder block trail in the courtyard of a nursing home where the smell of cleaning products reminds you of the stuff in the hospital when you watched your dad dying.

He tells you that you're very smart and you should believe in yourself, and that he wants you to understand your own psychology so that you have an understanding of what's going wrong and you can short-circuit the thought into another thought about how that doesn't matter or it's okay, you can just keep going.

But all you want to talk about is what that fly thought about time, you don't know why. What you don't know is WHY. HOW? WHAT? 4 days. You'd rather distract yourself than continue crying and telling a stranger about all the ways and things and times that make you suicidal.

"there's an INDY gene in those flies" he says. "You flip one gene (set/expression/phoneme?) from dominant to recessive and they live for 8 days instead of 4."

You sit there, dumbfounded.

Autismo part II: Redux

be me, 10 years later (24 years old)

You realize that concurrency is not A, but *THE* mental capacity solution to a reduction in time.

You listened to a set of books for fun on the drive to and from your University while you were living with your grandmother, a 45 minuted drive. First, Too Big To Fail, Andrew Sorkin's exhaustive journalistic account of the collateralized-debt-obligation (CDO) securities leverage and insurance, then bubbling and pop-type failure leading up to the week's events in 2008 that cause Lehman, Bear Stern, AIG, and (bank of america, maybe?) into liquidation positions.

You illegally ripped the CDs, not your CDOs, because you're poor. Except you're cash poor because you have $383,000 but your uncle in control hates his life and thinks that's why he works hard. He's a manufacturing infrastructure engineer with a 2 year degree, and that was hard.

So he wants you to hate your life until you get a job too, because that means you'll make a lot of money and be an engineer or something probably. But you already got a job. He made you. He told you that you only get to spend $10 a week on things you don't need unless you get a job and make the money yourself. You like computers and Jobs at the local theme park hurt your back. No good reason, they just want you to stand there to use a computer that you could totally use while sitting down because you're at the end of a buffet and you don't have to touch or move any food.

That job, your love of computers, your family all seem to make you happier and it also makes you ate life even more. At church on Sunday, the Pastor rips into you personally "PORNOGRAPHY IS THE DEVIL", "THINKING ABOUT OTHER THINGS AS IF THEY ARE MORE INTERESTING THAN GOD IS THE DEVIL", "SCIENCE IS EVIL", "PEOPLE WHO QUESTION GOD ARE WORSHIPING SATAN" he shouts through complex analogies that are aimed to keep you from hearing the actual fascism in the words. You're just the idiot savant kid sitting in the back running all of the audio equipment the entire time.

I tried to tell the pastor that he could put the sermons on a format of more dense form like a hard drive in a computer, and back it up to another hard drive, but every few weeks an 8 GB SD card would fill up and we'd just use a new one. THAT'S WRITE, WRITE ONCE, CATALOG DATA IN FLASH STORAGE LIKE A FUCKING NINTENDO, THIS MAN LIVED IN THE DARK AGES IN 2013. Oh, but the kid in the back thinking about how to jail break his iPhone and download the Golden Master release of the first iOS with multitasking, yeah, he's worshiping SATAN by not listening to you repeat the same fear mongering over and over.

Don't get me wrong, I believe in God now, my God, not yours, let's not talk about it right now. Yes, pornography is bad, but not why you think, it's because it's actually bad, like, a psychologist can prove it to you. No, thinking about other things isn't the devil, but thinking about how to make a thing or improve on a thing to make yourself like God, well that is, and I'm looking at you Mark Zuckerberg. Science isn't evil, it's an effort to understand things from first principles that sometimes leads to atomic bombs, that just means that we shouldn't make or use atomic bombs, not "DURR SCIENCE DA DEVIL". And those people questioning God are called lost sheep, great job welcoming them into your church pastor.

Anyway, you got the CDs ripped onto your Android phone and turned in the audio book CDs in time and deleted your copy because you knew there were internet services for libraries to do that and your library just doesn't have one yet. I probably should have told them about that. Your android phone sorted the numbered tracks generated by windows with a slightly out of order algorithm by comparison

You realize numbers are sorted differently by the alphabetic sorting in the file system on an android Samsung Galaxy S3, apparently. I was getting a degree in computer science but couldn't tell this was the case until the end of the book was not the end of the book, the end of the book played and then the book kept playing. The problem is that windows sees "track 1"->"track 2" and Linux (the heart of Android) sees "track 1"->"track 10"->"track 11"->...->"track 2"->"track 20", so it was mostly in order, until the end of the book was track 2 because it wasn't 19 apparently. Stupid fucking sorting algorithms, let's all just agree on standards! Oh wait, you just ignored the RFCs? cool. Let's just use CDs and listen to nothing but the CDs so we can get the audiobooks back on time, I'm not re-writing the Android Kernel. Bon voyage, NPR and news about the baboon running for president!

Then, A biography of Nietzsche by who know which author. His Uber-Mensche (super man) idea of how mankind was rebuilding itself in the imagined image of his "Gods" hardens your heart and doesn't make sense. The idea that you would even want to try sickens you. You just want to understand, not own the world. Screw owning anything, you wanna make things, help people, be someone.

Then, the most audacious pick you could because PBS Space Time on YouTube showed you that you can understand the physics without knowing the math, a book on how string theory works by a guy who actually works on that stuff, way out there past the words and into the Greek symbols for things I don't understand.

Then, I moved to Colorado because I wanted to smoke weed without fearing my record and harassment by the police, and a door opened because tech is a booming market, even in the back room of rinky dink flower shops in a small farming town where you live.

Autismo part II: Redux

be me, 10 years later (24 years old)

You realize that concurrency is not A, but *THE* mental capacity solution to a reduction in time.

You listened to a set of books for fun on the drive to and from your University while you were living with your grandmother, a 45 minuted drive. First, Too Big To Fail, Andrew Sorkin's exhaustive journalistic account of the collateralized-debt-obligation (CDO) securities leverage and insurance, then bubbling and pop-type failure leading up to the week's events in 2008 that cause Lehman, Bear Stern, AIG, and (bank of america, maybe?) into liquidation positions.

You illegally ripped the CDs, not your CDOs, because you're poor. Except you're cash poor because you have $383,000 but your uncle in control hates his life and thinks that's why he works hard. He's a manufacturing infrastructure engineer with a 2 year degree, and that was hard.

So he wants you to hate your life until you get a job too, because that means you'll make a lot of money and be an engineer or something probably. But you already got a job. He made you. He told you that you only get to spend $10 a week on things you don't need unless you get a job and make the money yourself. You like computers and Jobs at the local theme park hurt your back. No good reason, they just want you to stand there to use a computer that you could totally use while sitting down because you're at the end of a buffet and you don't have to touch or move any food.

That job, your love of computers, your family all seem to make you happier and it also makes you ate life even more. At church on Sunday, the Pastor rips into you personally "PORNOGRAPHY IS THE DEVIL", "THINKING ABOUT OTHER THINGS AS IF THEY ARE MORE INTERESTING THAN GOD IS THE DEVIL", "SCIENCE IS EVIL", "PEOPLE WHO QUESTION GOD ARE WORSHIPING SATAN" he shouts through complex analogies that are aimed to keep you from hearing the actual fascism in the words. You're just the idiot savant kid sitting in the back running all of the audio equipment the entire time.

I tried to tell the pastor that he could put the sermons on a format of more dense form like a hard drive in a computer, and back it up to another hard drive, but every few weeks an 8 GB SD card would fill up and we'd just use a new one. THAT'S WRITE, WRITE ONCE, CATALOG DATA IN FLASH STORAGE LIKE A FUCKING NINTENDO, THIS MAN LIVED IN THE DARK AGES IN 2013. Oh, but the kid in the back thinking about how to jail break his iPhone and download the Golden Master release of the first iOS with multitasking, yeah, he's worshiping SATAN by not listening to you repeat the same fear mongering over and over.

Don't get me wrong, I believe in God now, my God, not yours, let's not talk about it right now. Yes, pornography is bad, but not why you think, it's because it's actually bad, like, a psychologist can prove it to you. No, thinking about other things isn't the devil, but thinking about how to make a thing or improve on a thing to make yourself like God, well that is, and I'm looking at you Mark Zuckerberg. Science isn't evil, it's an effort to understand things from first principles that sometimes leads to atomic bombs, that just means that we shouldn't make or use atomic bombs, not "DURR SCIENCE DA DEVIL". And those people questioning God are called lost sheep, great job welcoming them into your church pastor.

Anyway, you got the CDs ripped onto your Android phone and turned in the audio book CDs in time and deleted your copy because you knew there were internet services for libraries to do that and your library just doesn't have one yet. I probably should have told them about that. Your android phone sorted the numbered tracks generated by windows with a slightly out of order algorithm by comparison

You realize numbers are sorted differently by the alphabetic sorting in the file system on an android Samsung Galaxy S3, apparently. I was getting a degree in computer science but couldn't tell this was the case until the end of the book was not the end of the book, the end of the book played and then the book kept playing. The problem is that windows sees "track 1"->"track 2" and Linux (the heart of Android) sees "track 1"->"track 10"->"track 11"->...->"track 2"->"track 20", so it was mostly in order, until the end of the book was track 2 because it wasn't 19 apparently. Stupid fucking sorting algorithms, let's all just agree on standards! Oh wait, you just ignored the RFCs? cool. Let's just use CDs and listen to nothing but the CDs so we can get the audiobooks back on time, I'm not re-writing the Android Kernel. Bon voyage, NPR and news about the baboon running for president!

Then, A biography of Nietzsche by who know which author. His Uber-Mensche (super man) idea of how mankind was rebuilding itself in the imagined image of his "Gods" hardens your heart and doesn't make sense. The idea that you would even want to try sickens you. You just want to understand, not own the world. Screw owning anything, you wanna make things, help people, be someone.

Then, the most audacious pick you could because PBS Space Time on YouTube showed you that you can understand the physics without knowing the math, a book on how string theory works by a guy who actually works on that stuff, way out there past the words and into the Greek symbols for things I don't understand.

Then, I moved to Colorado because I wanted to smoke weed without fearing my record and harassment by the police, and a door opened because tech is a booming market, even in the back room of rinky dink flower shops in a small farming town where you live.

submitted by /u/AspiENTP [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3c3XwuQ

[gingermalarkey]

Tagged by @34unpopped-kernels 

RULES: Answer 11 questions from the person who tagged you and then make 11 more for the next people that you tag.

1. what was the last book you read? it was a small Dutch book about nationalism and vox populi in Europe, called Kunnen we praten? or Can we talk? by Joris Luyendijk, a great Dutch journalist.

2. Shakespeare or Dr. Seuss? Shakespeare, my bud

3. Where do you like to sit in the movie theater and why? Always in the middle of the row and a bit to the back. I don’t mind if it’s all the way to the back either.

4. What is your puzzle maximum? (500 pieces, 1000 pieces?) I don’t puzzle for leisure.

5. Creature that you hate (besides mosquitoes)? Snakes. Can’t stand the sight of them

6. Secret handshakes yay or nay? Very yay, don’t have one atm

7. If you could swap lives with a character (TV, film, or book), who would you choose? Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice. Gonna reread that one next I think.

8. Are you bilingual? Trilingual? Do you wish you were? What languages can you communicate in currently and which would you want to learn to communicate in? I can communicate in Dutch (mother tongue), English (as you can see here, and I’m at academic level for it), German (Germans always comment on how well I speak it so I guess I’m not bad), and French (though I have been out of practice a lot). I can also speak a few words in Russian but that’s RUSTY as hell.

9. Opinion on karaoke? Adore it, love doing it, have made a fool out of myself so many times but I guess that is the point of it anyway

10. When making a sundae what are the optimal toppings? chocolate sauce and strawberries

11. If you had to change your skin tone to a colour from the rainbow, which would you choose? this is a fun question but i don’t know how to answer it! i want to have them all!

My questions:

1. Let’s talk pets! How many do you have? Do you wanna have them? 

2. Favourite time of the year?

3. Favorite flirting technique?

4. What’s a good tip for studying?

5. How many people have you kissed in your life?

6. What is a good height?

7. Android or Apple?

8. Book or movie?

9. Long nails or long hair?

10. What’s your favourite kind of social media?

11. Are you happy?

I tag everybody that wants to do it (and don’t forget to tag me in it so I can see)

[daystorestart]

Everything you should Learn about Rooting an Android Device

If you Have Researched anything around Android on the There was a time when a lot of the Android phones available did not fulfill their potential, and origin was that the answer. Horrible applications was the norm, software that you would never utilize ran amok and wasted data and battery lifetime, as well as the experience was bad all around.

Because Every Android cellphone is running the Linux kernel and Middleware quite similar to a Linux distribution you'd install on a pc under the hood, rooting them has become the best approach to allow us to attempt to mend them our own manner. Rooting is how you get full access to all in the operating system, and such permissions allow you to change it all. Even the most inexpensive phone or tablet you may buy in 2016 will perform more and perform better that the perfect Android phone available only a few decades past. But a whole lot people still wish to root our phones and are searching to find out more.

What is root?

Root, at Least how we are speaking about it here, is the superuser. Your Android phone utilizes Linux permissions and file-system possession. You are a user when you sign in, and you are allowed to do certain things based on your user permissions. Apps you set up might also be given a type of user ID, and all them have permissions to do specific things -- you find those once you install them old versions of Android, or you're prompted to permit them on Marshmallow or greater -- in certain sections using certain files. Root is also an individual. This includes items we want to do, like uninstall program forced on us from the women and men who built them or the people who sells us and things we do not want to do that can put your Android in a wrong state. When you are doing things with superuser permissions, you have the power to do anything.

When you Root your Android, You're simply adding a typical Linux work that's been eliminated. A small file called su is placed from the system and given permissions so that another user may run it. It stands for Switch User, and should you run the file without any other parameters that it switches your credentials and permissions with a typical user to that of the superuser. You are then in full control, and may add anything, eliminate anything and access functions in your telephone or tablet computer you could not reach before. This is quite significant, and something you should consider before you begin.

Can I Root my Android?

Yes. No. Maybe. People have different reasons to wish to root their own devices. Some do it just because they could -- they paid for the hardware and think they ought to have the ability to do anything they like. Others desire to be able to add things which aren't there, like internet servers or have the capability to "fix" services that are there but don't function the way they would like them to get the job done. Folks might buy a telephone because they like the hardware, but hate the applications and want to alter it. Mostly, people root their phones because they only wish to eliminate the additional things on it they don't want. Every one of those reasons -- as well as any reason you could have that are not mentioned here are the ideal reasons.

Before you Do any preparation to root your phone, you Need to remember that it influences everything regarding the inherent safety from Google along with the people who built it. Plenty of us do not enjoy it, but having the ability to access an account with admin permissions was not included in release versions of Android on function. As soon as you include this capacity, you're responsible for the safety and integrity of the operating system and each program on it. For many, this is much more duty than they want or desire. Rooting isn't the answer for everyone. If you are not certain about the ways that you can split things by doing this as root, you need to learn more about it before you begin. It's OK to not know things and to attempt to learn, but not knowing and doing them anyway can turn a very expensive Android into a paperweight. Additionally, you have to comprehend that for all Android variants, rooting ensures that your warranty is null and void. Services (including programs in addition to network access from the carrier) can be refused for you due to the safety risk when you're rooted. The threat is real, because a lot of users go into it blind and let security lapse.

This stuff. Any Android cellphone, however limited root access is, can do just about what we want or desire from a pocket. It is likely to change the look, select from over a million programs in Google Play and have complete access to the net and most any solutions that reside there. You may even make telephone calls. It is great if you're happy with everything you've got and what it could do, and aren't worried about trying to mend what is not (in your own eyes) broken. Getting Prepared to origin

You will need to perform a Few things to prepare your Phone for rooting, depending on which method you use. This appears to be plenty of frightening work, but it isn't difficult and knowing how to utilize these tools will help if things go wrong.

Depending on which phone you have, unlocking the bootloader is slightly different. The "standard" way is by using the OEM unlocks control, which is summarized here. If you're using a Motorola, HTC or LG phone (in addition to other brands such as Huawei or Sony) you'll probably need to receive a token you input through the process. You'll discover the way to do that and to get it from at every vendors developer pages. Remember that deleting the bootloader on your Android may impact the warranty status.

Applying commercial Origin apps

Utilizing Commercial rooting apps like Kingo Root or When these apps can not root every phone, the men and women who make them do as they can to maintain the software present.

While we can not validate the concepts that these programs Could possibly contain malware or send off your data to some host in some unfriendly nation, plenty of folks around the web have expressed doubts and worries. You should not ignore them. We recommend that you factory reset your Android before you download, install or run these programs to be secure. Your phone will remain rooted after, and you're able to mill reset once again then sign in normally.

Using Kingo Root

You can use Kingo Root with or without a pc. You will Get the download for the 2 approaches from the Kingo Root page -- simply select the one which you would like to utilize.

You'll want to have the appropriate USB drivers installed on the computer you're using. If you do not have these, the Kingo Root program will attempt to track down and prepare the right ones during the process. Simply plug your phone to the computer and start the program. It's as straightforward as allowing the software set up things, then you click the button labeled "origin" in the software. You will see a listing of recommended root software to set up after the procedure is finished, but if the program states it was successful your phone should have the superuser unlocked. It is a Lot Easier to Attempt to use the Kingo Root app in your Phone to root. When you've downloaded it (and let sideloading of apps) you command your telephone to 50% and run the app. There's only 1 button to press on, and once you tap it which the rest is automatic. In the event the standalone version isn't successful, the computer version might be.

Where to Move from here?

Now that you're armed with a bit of information about what source Is, why you might want to do it and where to go to discover the methods, you are in a place to do some legwork.

The most significant part the full process is to see. Locate Every bit of advice about rooting your distinct telephone or tablet, read up on the intricacies of the Android SDK and flashing a customized retrieval for your telephone, and find out how to return until you combine any cables or install any application. Even the easiest phones to root need some total personal knowledge -- your own Android is a computer -- so you should be sure that you're in a position to comprehend things like working with zip files or having a file manager. Remember -- it's always OK to have questions and request help.

An excellent Location to start is in forums. Our forums are full Of individuals who crack and hack at Androids for fun, along with other tools like XDA Developers forums might be a goldmine of info. Never overlook information That's readily available in regards to hacking at your expensive phone. Rooting Offers a long list of possibilities for safe and responsible users, so make Sure you are informed and careful and have fun!

[gilbertineonfr2]

Hacktivity 2017 Wrap-Up Day 1

My wrap-up crazy week continues… I’m now in Budapest to attend Hacktivity for the first time. During the opening ceremony some figures were given about this event: 14th edition(!), 900 attendees from 23 different countries and 36 speakers. Here is a nice introduction video. The venue is nice with two tracks in parallel, workshops (called “Hello Workshops”), a hacker center, sponsor’ booths and… a wall-of-sheep! After so many years, you realize immediately that it is well organized and everything is under control.

As usual, the day started with a keynote. Costin Raiu from Kaspersky presented “Why some APT research is like palaeontology?” Daily, Kaspersky collects 500K malware samples and less than 50 are really interesting for his team. The idea to compare this job with palaeontology came from a picture of Nessie (the Lochness monster). We some something on the picture but are we sure that it’s a monster? Costin gave the example of Regin: They discovered the first sample in 1999, 1 in 2003 and 43 in 2007. Based in this, how to be certain that you found something interesting? Finding IOCs, C&Cs is like finding bones of a dinosaur. At the end, you have a complete skeleton and are able to publish your findings (the report). In the next part of the keynote, Costin gave examples of interesting cases they found with nice stories like the 0-day that was discovered thanks to the comment left by the developer in his code. The Costin’s advice is to learn Yara and to write good signatures to spot interesting stuff.

The first regular talk was presented by Zoltán Balázs: “How to hide your browser 0-days?‘. It was a mix of crypto and exploitation. The Zoltán’s research started after a discussion with a vendor that was sure to catch all kind of 0-day exploits against browsers. “Challenge accepted” for him. The problem with 0-day exploits is that they quickly become ex-0-day exploits when they are distributed by exploit kits. Why? Quickly, security researchers will find samples, analyze them and patches will be available soon. From an attacker point of view, this is very frustrating. You spend a lot of money and lose it quickly. The idea was to deliver the exploit using an encrypted channel between the browser and the dropper. The shellcode is encrypted, executed then download the malware (also via a safe channel is required). Zoltán explained how he implemented the encrypted channel using ECDH (that was the part of the talk about crypto). This is better than SSL because if you control the client, it is too easy to play MitM and inspect the traffic. It’s not possible with the replay attack that implemented Zoltán. The proof of concept has been released.

Then another Zoltán came on stage: Zoltán Wollner with a presentation called “Behind the Rabbit and beyond the USB“. He started with a scene of the show Mr Robot where they use a Rubber Ducky to get access to a computer. Indeed a classic USB stick might have hidden/evil features. The talk was in fact a presentation of the Bash Bunny tool from Hak5. This USB stick is … what you want! A keyboard, a flash drive, an Ethernet/serial adapter and more! He demonstrated some scenarios:

QuickCreds: stealing credentials from a locked computer

EternalBlue

This device is targeting low-hanging fruits but … just works! Note that it requires physical access to the target computer.

After the lunch coffee break, Mateusz Olejarka presented “REST API, pentester’s perspective“. Mateusz is a pentester and, by experience, he is facing more and more API when conducting penetration tests. The first time that an API was spotted in an attack was when @sehacure pwned a lot of Facebook accounts via the API and the password reset feature. On the regular website, he was rejected after a few attempts but the anti-bruteforce protection was not enabled on the beta Facebook site! Today RASK API are everywhere and most of the application and web tools have an API. An interesting number:  by 2018, 50% of B2B exchanges will be performed via web APIs. The principle of an API is simple: a web service that offers methods and process data in JSON (most of the time). Methods are GET/PUT/PATCH/DELETE/POST/… To test a REST API, we need some information: the endpoint, the documentation, get access to access key and sample calls. Mateusz explained how to find them. To find endpoints, we just try URI like “/api”, “/v1”, “/v1.1”, “/api/v1” or “/ping”, “/status”, “/health”, … Sometimes the documentation is available online or returned by the API itself. To find keys, two reliable sources are:

Apps / mobile apps

Github!

Also, fuzzing can be interesting to stress test the API. This one of my favourite talk, plenty of useful information if you are working in the pentesting area.

The next speaker was Leigh-Anne Galloway: “Money makes money: How to buy an ATM and what you can do with it“. She started with the history of ATMs. The first one was invented in 1967 (for Barclay’s in the UK). Today, there are 3.8M devices in the wild. The key players are Siemens Nixdorf, NSC and Fujitsu. She explained how difficult is was for her to just buy an ATM. Are you going through the official way or the “underground” way? After many issues, she finally was able to have an ATM delivered at her home. Cool but impossible to bring it in her apartment without causing damages. She decided to leave it on the parking and to perform the tests outside. In the second part, Leigh-Anne explained the different tests/attacks performed against the ATM: bruteforce, attack at OS level, at hardware and software level.

The event was split into two tracks, so I had to make choice. The afternoon started with Julien Thomas and “Limitations of Android permission system: packages, processes and user privacy“. He explained in details how are the access rights and permissions defined and enforced by Android. Amongst a deep review of the components, he also demonstrated an app that, once installed has no access, but, due to the process of revocation weaknesses, the app gets more access than initially.

Then Csaba Fitzl talked about malware and techniques used to protect themselves against security researchers and analysts: “How to convince a malware to avoid us?“. Malware authors are afraid of:

Security researchers

Sandboxes

Virtual machines

Hardened machines

Malware hates to be analysed and they sometimes avoid to infect certain targets (ex: they check the keyboard mapping to detect the country of the victim). Czaba reviewed several examples of known malware and how to detect if they are being monitored. The techniques are multiple and, as said Csaba, it could take weeks to review all of them. He also gave nice tips to harden your virtual machine/sandboxes to make them look really like a real computer used by humans. Then he gave some tips that he solved by writing small utilities to protect the victim. Example: mutex-grabber which monitors malwr.com and automatically creates the found Mutexes on the local OS. The tools reviewed on the presentation are available here. Also a great talk with plenty of useful tips.

After the last coffee break, Harman Singh presented “Active Directory Threats & Detection: Heartbeat that keeps you alive may also kill you!“. Active Directories remain a juicy target because they are implemented in almost all organizations worldwide! He reviewed all the components of an Active Directory then explained some techniques like enumeration of accounts, how to collect data, how to achieve privilege escalation and access to juicy data.

Finally, Ignat Korchagin closed the day with a presentation “Exploiting USB/IP in Linux“. When he asked who know or use USB/IP in the room, nobody raised hands. Nobody was aware of this technique, same for me! The principle is nice: USB/IP allows you to use a USB device connected on computer A from computer B. The USB traffic (URB – USB Request Blocks) are sent over TCP/IP. More information is available here. This looks nice! But… The main problem is that the application level protocol is implemented at kernel level! A packet is based on a header + payload. The kernel gets the size of data to process via the header. This one can be controlled by an attacker and we are facing a nice buffer overflow! This vulnerability is referenced as CVE-2016-3955. Ignat also found a nice name for his vulnerability: “UBOAT” for “(U)SB/IP (B)uffer (O)verflow (AT)tack“. He’s still like for a nice logo :). Hopefully, to be vulnerable, many requirements must be fulfilled:

The kernel must be unpatched

The victim must use USB/IP

The victim must be a client

The victim must import at least one device

The victim must be root

The attacker must own the server or play MitM.

Ignat completed his talk with a live demo that crashed the computer (DoS) but there is probably a way use the head application to get remote code execution.

Enough for today, stay tuned for the second day!

[The post Hacktivity 2017 Wrap-Up Day 1 has been first published on /dev/random]

from Xavier

[savetopnow]

2018-03-07 21 LINUX now

LINUX

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